Once upon a time in Atlanta, Georgia, I was invited to a backyard bbq party. I used my cell phone app to order a private ride to the party. I arrived really late at this really big house on a hill after most guests had already eaten, drank, smoked, played games, and had heightened out at whatever else was taking place. As grilled wings normally find me, I went straight to the backyard from the car and was pleasantly surprised at such a warm greeting from new friends and the level of love and respect that was shared. One young man pulled me to the side at length and spoke in detail about some decisions that he was up against. He then introduced me to one of his close male friends who was there with his girlfriend. The introduction was warm, and it included my background on this book and my affiliations with Atlanta. The young man’s girlfriend, whom I had never met, was a lot more enthused than her boyfriend, Aaron, who had driven her to the party.

Right there on the spot, in front of a lot of people, she asked me if I could talk to Aaron and offer some insight. This was not the first of several occasions, such as sporting event and live concerts, where someone would pull me to the side and say, “Please convince him not to drive home. He has had too much to drink. You’re the author; talk him into leaving his car instead of driving.”

Am I going to have to do this every time for the rest of my life? I’m not sure I can, or that I even want to; that’s why I wrote a book about it. “Sometimes I just want to enjoy the concert or the game and not have to add additional responsibilities to the night,” was usually my reply. That may not be fair to some, but it puts weight on my shoulders that I may not have the capacity to carry on a daily basis. My response was then followed by, “He read The Drunk Dial already, so he should know better.”

But that night, I did not say that to Aaron and his girlfriend in Atlanta. I was willing and ready to talk about anything....