A man goes to a party and has too much to drink. His friends plead with him to let them take him home. He says no—he only lives a mile away. About five blocks from the party the police pull him over for weaving and ask him to get out of the car and walk the line. Just as he starts, the police radio blares out a notice of a robbery taking place in a house just a block away. The police tell the party animal to stay put, they will be right back—and they run down the street to the robbery.
The guy waits and waits and finally decides to drive home. When he gets there, he tells his wife he is going to bed, and to tell anyone who might come looking for him that he has the flu and has been in bed all day.
A few hours later the police knock on the door. They ask if Mr. X lives there and his wife says yes. They ask to see him and she replies that he is in bed with the flu and has been so all day.
The police have his driver’s license. They ask to see his car and she asks why. They insist on seeing his car, so she takes them to the garage and opens the door where they find: the police car, lights still flashing.