Driving three sheets to the wind

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I'd just finished writing about the drunk bitch on the train tracks and was happily on my way out to the beach when I noticed a VW beetle literally on the steps of a neighboring apt building. It looked like a Transformer was caught in the act of walking up the steps before hurriedly reverting to his automobile form. But the incident was zero science fiction and at least 180 proof drunk Mexican. He was unhurt (of course) but, man, if he wasn't three sheets to the wind, then he was five. 

There he swayed, blood-shot eyes and a mess, wondering aloud to the two traffic officials who showed up, Oye what's the big deal?  It looked unbelievable---too good a piece to pass up---so I went back inside, grabbed my netbook and, being the clever boy that I am, pretended to search for an Internet signal all the while snapping shots with its built-in camera of the one-car accident. I live three miles to the sky atop a steep hill and, from the looks of it, drunk Speedy Gonzalez backed out over the stairs. Damn those rear view mirrors and their misleading objects-may-appear-closer-than-they-actually-are warnings. Whoops, up and over goes the beetle!

if he wasn't three sheets to the wind, then he was five

The following was overheard (am not making this up): 
"I have to drive to work," explained the fool in his composed inebriated state.
"But, look," said the officials, pointing to the accident scene, "you can't drive." 

 what in thee #*@!?

 dude, what happened to your car?

 

 

trusty municipal 

behind me Speedy Gonzalez casually explains his driving skills