About five years ago an acquaintance happened into my favorite local tavern where I usually stop in a couple times a week. I was about 60 and she was in her mid-50's. She knew that I had always been an avid Ducati guy and she told me she had gotten into motorcycling in recent years. We had a beer together and then rode in separate cars to my house about 2 mi. away. She wanted to see my two Ducatis so I told her to follow me to my place. As I was driving I looked in my rear view mirror to make sure she was following. It didn't take long to realize that she was DUI. Weird. She had had one beer with me and didn't seem drunk. Apparently, it had not been her first stop. We got to my house and she needed help to get up the 4 steps to my front door. I had no idea where she lived although I knew it was somewhere in my town. So, I put her into my bed and I went downstairs and slept on the couch.
A month or so later I was having dinner at a nice brew pub in town and saw her there with a friend of hers. The friend left and she came over and sat down uninvited. Clearly she was popped. My buddy, Pete, looked at me and we both agreed, non-verbally, that she could not be allowed to get into a car. Pete went to tell the bartender that they had to cut her off. I should add that the bartenders and staff are all friends of ours. I turned to see what was going on at the bar and she bolted heading for the back door and her car. It took me a minute to realize that she wasn't headed for the Ladies Room. I yelled to Pete and I took off after her. When I got outside she was nowhere to be seen until I saw her car starting to move through the parking lot. By this time Pete was outside with me. I ran down the steps and hurdled a row of low hedges and got in front of her car (at a distance). Thankfully, she stopped. I made her get into the passenger seat and drove her home with Pete following. Getting directions to her house was, let us say, interesting.
Although we communicated by e-mail from time to time or ran into each other at the local Post Office I hadn't seen her to talk to in a few years. Until yesterday. When last I saw her she had been about 30 lbs overweight (she's a small woman and had once been attractive) and clearly on her way to alcoholism...if not there already. But, yesterday she was lean and fit and going past the Post Office on a road bike all decked out in matching blue and white cycling garb. Made my day a little brighter.