My Traffic Stop: A DUI That Almost Was

"Seems Like a Close One"

This is a true story, one I haven’t really told before, though I always tell new clients, “I know what it’s like to have a second chance. I also know what it’s like to stare back at that fork in the road and, well, think about it. What it meant then and what could have happened.”

It was my second year of law school, a decade-plus before anyone ever heard of Uber. The night had started simply enough, a typical law school gathering with classmates, a couple of beers spread over a few hours. I felt and acted perfectly fine.

Pulled Over After Two Beers: What Really Happened

Driving home late at night in my late '80s Toyota Celica (a car so low-slung nobody ever pulled a muscle getting in or out of it), I was relaxed and never saw the cop on the side of the road or when I passed by. But I certainly saw his lights flick on in my rearview mirror, saw the unmistakable silhouette of a Crown Vic, and quickly realized with gut-clenching certainty that he was pulling me over.

On the side of the road, it seemed to take him forever to get out of his car and walk over to me. He seemed in no hurry.

The cop approached, towering over my tiny Celica. From my vantage point, all I saw clearly were his gun and mace at window level. I had to crane my neck while leaning slightly out of the window to look up at his face.

“Had you going forty-nine in a forty,” he began. “Any reason for that?”

“Sorry, but…” I stopped myself. No use explaining what he already knew. It was the classic trap where the highway ended and turned into a two-lane road, and the speed limit dropped suddenly from 65 to 40. Drivers who regularly took the route, like me, usually remembered to slow down quickly. It was the perfect place for cops to wait, especially late at night. I was blasting tunes and zoning out. I was slow decelerating.

Refusing a Field Sobriety Test in Washington

Then the inevitable question: “Have you been drinking tonight?”

Instinctively, I replied, “No.” Then, after a pause, I corrected myself. “Oh, wait, yeah. Two beers, but that was a while ago.” It was dumb of me to say no and even dumber to say two beers. This is one of those scary, two-in-the-morning things I did completely, utterly wrong.

It was no surprise that the officer asked me to step out of the car. This is how the DUI process often begins, even when you don’t think you’ve done anything wrong. It was freezing, and I instinctively went to put my hands in my pockets. I quickly realized how you never do that when confronted by a cop, especially in the middle of the night on the side of the road. Panicked, I quickly yanked them back out into clear view.

The stop was technically for speeding, but he wasn't interested in that. Instead, he zeroed in on my red eyes.

"Man, your eyes are really red."

“Oh, yeah. I've got pinkeye. I've got eyedrops in my pocket.” The cop was big, bald, and seemingly indifferent to my explanation. He didn’t question it.

He asked me to perform a field sobriety test. I said no. I knew I was not impaired, and I knew enough not to trust a field test, especially under those conditions, along with my near-panic. It was 2002. Back then, refusing the test couldn't be used as evidence of guilty knowledge. That’s no longer true. Refusing now leads directly to arrest, though it is still often the smarter move.

We stood in the cold. He asked questions and kept flashing his flashlight directly into my eyes, causing me to flinch repeatedly. I later learned that police officers are trained to use this technique to disorient people and get a rough gauge of sobriety. Intoxicated individuals' eyes react slowly or not at all. Mine certainly did. The light hurt like hell, just adding to my rising dread.

Every once in a while, he’d stop asking questions, tell me not to move, and wander over to my car. He bent over, shined the light inside, stared in, and came back. Unnerving, to say the least.

Standing there, flinching at the flashlight, my imagination ran wild. None of it was pleasant. Time stretched on. I answered his questions by rote while my mind raced. At some point, it hit me so hard my knees weakened. I was a few weeks away from an internship with a prosecutor. Prosecutors don’t keep interns who are currently facing charges.

The DUI That Never Happened But Almost Did

I froze, shifted on numbing feet, and thought about that while the cop kept going. Eventually, I will never know how long it took, he said, “This seems like a close one.” I'm not sure if I responded. But shortly after, he said, “Have a nice night. Keep it slow the rest of the way,” and walked back to his car.

That was it. Not even a speeding ticket.

To quote Modest Mouse, “Well, he just drove off, sometimes life's okay.”

I was relieved out there on the pavement. I was relieved as I started my car and slowly drove off. I was happy it was over, but I couldn’t shake the feeling. What I had just experienced was a fishing expedition. It wasn’t about a minor speeding ticket. It was about nailing someone, anyone, in the early morning hours for a DUI. In other words, the stop was garbage. I mean, really, not even a speeding ticket?

Today, after prosecuting DUIs, defending countless others, and reading thousands of police reports, I can say with absolute certainty: even a single beer now means calling Uber, every time.

Why? Because in the same jurisdiction where I was stopped, regardless of whether I had taken the field test or not, I would have been arrested. Pinkeye medication in my pocket and all.

That particular city has aggressive local police and prosecutors. Their philosophy is simple. Better to arrest, file charges, and then maybe cut a deal if the evidence isn’t quite there. In one of my alternate timelines, charges would have been filed, and with them, the potential DUI penalties that could’ve changed everything. I would have eventually prevailed, since I refused the field sobriety test, wasn't driving erratically, wasn't even issued a speeding ticket, and had a medical explanation for my red eyes. (Red eyes are a big factor when considering the totality of the circumstances.) Many clients are mistakenly suspected of driving under the influence of drugs due to similar symptoms like red eyes or fatigue.

But in that fork-in-the-road scenario, the arrest would have cost me the internship. It was so late in the semester that another one wasn’t going to happen. My third and final year of law school would have been miserable, between studying and attending court hearings. It could have lasted the whole year. It could, and likely would, have affected my bar prep and made it impossible to search for a job until there was a final resolution.

A conviction, even a remote one, would have ruined everything.

Those ten or twenty minutes on a freezing highway could have, and likely would have, affected my life for years. I doubt I would have ended up with my own law firm.

How One Traffic Stop Shaped My Legal Career

Sometimes, I wake up in the middle of the night, haunted by another version of events. A parallel universe in which I’m arrested, my pinkeye is used against me in court, and I end up with a conviction. Those nights are tough. I imagine life without being a lawyer.

Why We Fight for Every DUI Client

I know what every client feels when they walk through our doors after a first DUI. That moment when their future suddenly hangs in the balance is horrible. It’s the uncertainty and the almost total loss of control over their life. I’ve never forgotten it.

It informs every conversation I have with a potential client. They’re at the same fork in the road that still wakes me up a couple of times a month. I make sure they know I get it. My goal, and the goal of everyone at Knauss Law, is to help them regain that control.

Protect Your Future Before It’s Too Late

If you’re facing a DUI, you need more than legal advice. You need someone who understands what you’re feeling and knows how to fight for your future. At Knauss Law, we don’t just defend cases, we protect lives, careers, and second chances.

Contact us to schedule complimentary case evaluation.