Make the right call

So there I was in a very familiar scene. We had just come from the wedding of our national drift champion, Alex Perez, (gift to follow, bro!) when I found myself joining the ‘after party’ with several mountain biking buddies. I’ll spare you the details to protect the guilty, but basically, I’ll fast forward to the scene in the rest room where most people have that ‘Man, I’m drunk’ moment. 

I’ve been here before. So I knew what to do. Usually, I go back to the party and drink a lot of water. Thing is, however, depending on the company, this can be a lot easier said than done as some guys have an incredible knack for finding a direct connection to your sexual orientation based solely on the drink you have in your hand. If it’s clear, it better be vodka, rum, tequila or gin. If it’s not, it better be beer. Anything else, and be prepared to let them smell it or face social castration. 

Thankfully, these guys are not those people, but the problem was that I knew that the party would wrap up in about 30 minutes, which was not enough time to sober up. So I picked up my cell phone and called Lifeline’s Driver on Call, which is a brand new community service project spearheaded by Lifeline Ambulance to help in the fight against drunk driving. 

In case you missed last week’s column, the idea is that if you find yourself in a situation where you no longer feel that it is safe to drive yourself home either from intoxication, fatigue, reaction to medicine or any other reason that has left you impaired, just call Lifeline’s hotline 16911 or 09175216911, and a rapid response unit, which is a bright red Chevrolet Spark, will arrive on the scene with two highly trained drivers. One will drive you home in your car, while the support vehicle tails you to make sure everyone gets home safe. 

The idea is simple; the logistics and commitment to sustain it is anything but. But more on that later.

As I have worked closely with Lifeline to put this all together, I was also very curious to see how the service worked in reality. So I made the call discreetly and wanted to act like any other party-goer in Metro Manila who had just heard of the service. No special treatments, no fanfare. 

The phone was picked up on the second ring. I asked if I could have a driver on call because I had been drinking and I needed to get myself and my car home. Immediately, the dispatcher says, “Certainly, sir James! Where are you now? We will send the rapid response right away!” Damn. I was meant to be discreet. Turns out they had my number in their data base. Never mind, I thought, I still need a driver.

I didn’t tell my buddies because I wanted to see their reaction; because if you want to be blunt about this, as responsible as we all want to be, the reality is some people are too proud to use a service like this and that is almost always based on how they feel their peers will perceive them. If we are sincere about making a difference, I need to understand the psyche behind drunk driving and conduct these social experiments at least once a week—or that’s what I plan on telling my wife when I come home slurring.

The first problem came when the rapid response unit wasn’t allowed in by the guard. As we were drinking in a gated compound with a guard house, one of the genius guards decided he needed to walk the entire length of the car park to ask us if anyone ordered an ambulance. Pity the fool who ordered one and then collapsed, right? But, sadly, this is an issue that Lifeline have had for years when responding to medical emergencies. A lot of guards just don’t get it. And in a situation where every second counts, it would be nice to count on some common sense. 

Anyway, despite the brain fade from security, Lifeline still arrived in under 30 minutes. And although they didn’t quite get the grand entrance I was hoping for, when the little Spark eventually pulled up, everyone was on their feet, cellphones in hand and yelling out words of encouragement. 

My driver, Christian, walks up very professionally and asks who called for a driver. I put my hand up and he asks where my car is. Remember, my rowdy friends are filming this and taking pictures the whole time. I point out the brand new Toyota 86. He happens to be a regular reader, and a car fanatic, too. He needs a moment, and maybe a tissue. After knowing my involvement in this whole project, he was already a bit nervous that it was me he was picking up. Now he sees the car. And thanks to my friends, potentially, so does the whole of YouTube and Facebook. 

He may be intimidated by the whole situation, as anyone put in his position would understandably be, but he remains professional. He starts the car and now all my friends are begging me to let them drive me home in that car. But they had been drinking, too. So to the sober one goes the spoils. 

I’m waving to them from the passenger seat of the 86, muttering to Christian from out of the side of my mouth, “Let’s get out of here quick” just to put a nice visual stamp on the whole scene with a perfect Hollywood exit. Christian obviously wants to do the same. 

It takes a little longer than expected, though, because of the tricky location of the car, not to mention the performance anxiety of being filmed reverse parking the most in-demand sports car right now with a waiting list longer than the pending cases in the court of appeals, but we eventually pull out safely and any awkwardness was quickly replaced with high fives, man hugs, and sincere pats on the back for doing the right thing. 

The sincerity was actually sobering—but there was still no way I would have risked driving home. There were many times I have done so, and I’ll always be ashamed of that. But that’s when there was no practical option available. Now that there is, there really is no excuse. Making the right call that night is something nobody will ever really be able to quantify. If the scene was a status update, it was one of those rare moments where you would be forgiven for clicking ‘like’ on your own post. I was proud of myself. And for good reason, too.

And as of this writing, just five days since the launch, over a dozen people have used the service. Kudos to you all, whoever you are. 

But as proud as I am of all of you that are setting the right example, the most amazing part about this whole project is the outpouring of support this project has received. A student developer from UP has offered his services making a Windows app, some have offered to make the iPhone and Android versions, Garmin confirmed the GPS devices to navigate the cars, a fuel company wants to kick in for gas, ad agencies have offered free creative work, bar owners have offered to put signs above their urinals and bathroom stalls, three newspapers, five magazines, a television show, three radio programs and countless websites and forums have offered free advertising space. 

Colleagues from competing newspapers, and even my own arch rival from Top Gear Magazine, Vernon Sarne, has offered to put all competition aside and write about it. Maverick Media Solutions donated P200,000 worth of radio spots on Mellow Touch 94.7, while Brother’s Burgers offered the Lifeline crew a place to standby so they can be in strategic points, and even offered them free food and drink (non-alcoholic) while they wait. 

You could say that these are businesses riding on the wave to catch some credit, but the truth is none of them asked to be named. These are all private messages and emails. 

There are plenty more who have offered, but perhaps the most touching ones have come from private citizens. I have had countless offers from people who are volunteering to be a driver on call on a chosen night and given area if Lifeline runs out of drivers. I have only agreed once we can establish beyond question the motives, sincerity and driving skills of course, but in return, the idea is that they get one free ride for every ride they give. Sort of like a pay-it-forward system; and even though most replied by saying they don’t want anything in return, the idea of passing on that card to a friend, seems good enough for them.

Christian drove flawlessly on the way home. He even missed the three potholes on the service road that many sober people hit in broad daylight. We arrive safely at my house. Christian returns the keys, issues a receipt, and then rides off into the darkness to offer another lifeline to someone else who is not too proud to accept it.

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