When life goes sideways, don’t make it worse by self-sabotaging. Fix the damn tire and keep driving.
We all hit bumps — a bad day, a mistake, a setback. The problem isn’t the flat tire; it’s when we take our frustration out on the rest of the car. Instead of burning everything down, slow down, take a breath, and fix what’s broken. The road’s still waiting for you.
Now, if I had a penny for every disclosure I’ve read that starts with “the accused was intoxicated,” I’d have bought my dream farm on the Mediterranean coast and wouldn’t be writing this blog. But here we are — another night, another disclosure, another case where someone got a flat tire and decided to torch the whole car.
Alcohol, drugs, frustration — that’s the unholy trinity of bad decisions.
The flat tire might’ve been something small: a breakup, a fight, a rough day at work. But instead of pulling over and fixing it, they kept driving on the rim until sparks flew. Then they wonder how the whole thing went up in flames.
As defence counsel, I see it every day. People don’t get into trouble because they’re evil — they get into trouble because they don’t stop when they should. They react instead of reflect. They slash the other three tires and call it fate.
The truth is, we’ve all been there in some form. Maybe not behind the wheel with a .12 BAC, but in life — saying something we can’t unsay, making a move we regret, running from a mess we made. The difference is whether we stop to fix it or keep driving until it’s unrecognizable.
So next time you feel the wheel wobble, don’t grab the knife. Grab the jack. Fix the damn tire and keep driving.
I had a client once tell me her family would be okay if she did cocaine, but not if she drank.
I went to my cave — that quiet mental place where lawyers go to wrestle with the absurd — and tried to make sense of it. Nothing did. So I left the cave, picked up the phone, and called her.
“What the hell are you talking about?” I asked.
She laughed — a kind of tired laugh that’s seen too much. “When you drink, you start making deals with yourself — promises you never keep. One more to take the edge off, one more to forget. And that’s when you call that friend you shouldn’t, and the drugs show up. No one just does cocaine. It’s not a choice; it’s an arrival — but not the last stop on the road you’ve been driving down all night.”
And that hit me. Not because I agreed, but because it was honest. Brutally honest. People rationalize destruction in ways that make sense only to them in the moment. It’s survival logic — the kind that turns a flat tire into an explosion because silence feels scarier than chaos.
No one “just does coke.” First you’re angry — or you find something to be angry about. Then you justify having that first drink (the flat tire). Before you know it, a hot nerve lights up your spine and your brain appoints you arbiter of everything life’s thrown at you — and victim of it all. That’s slashing the second tire.
Next you call that one friend you should’ve stayed away from, and there come the drugs — the third tire’s gone too.Frustration follows, because by the end of the night the original problem is still there and you’re worse off.
That’s when people cross the line — and I’ll see you the morning after, in bail court.
Every story I read in a disclosure file starts with a flat tire — something small that spiraled. Every story also ends the same way: someone wishing they’d just stopped, fixed it, and kept driving.
So if you’re wobbling down the road tonight, don’t light the match. Don’t call the friend. Don’t slash the other three tires.
Fix the damn tire and keep driving.
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Written By:
SIDNEY ZARABI
Criminal Defence Counsel
10(B) CRIMINAL LAW CENTER
B.A.Sc. (Hons.) Eng., M.A.Sc. (Eng.), J. D.
Office: +1 888 886 1022 | Mobile: +1 416 856 5728
226-110 James Street
St. Catharines, ON L2R 7E8
www.10bclaw.com
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