a small anecdote from my family, maybe some of you might enjoy:
so, back in the 70s, my grandad was a bit of a naughty boy (smuggled industrial quantities of cigarettes and booze from Spain for resale/owned an unlicensed hunting rifle/would have organized fights with the army outside pubs etc.)
So, one day he’s driving back from the pub blind drunk and hits the side of a car (not condoning this btw, drunk driving is awful and should be punished). The driver of the other car realizes he’s absolutely leathered and decides to call the police. grandad hops back in the car and books it home. an hour later the police arrive at the door, to be greeted by an apparently beaming grandad with a large glass of wine in his hand. Apparently he got off the drunk driving charges as they couldn’t prove he was drunk at the time of the incident, and his excuse for the glass of wine was that he was ‘stressed from the crash’.