We watched Keith (42) driving out of the Mornington Tavern car park at 8.35pm on Friday, December 17.
Constable Chris Gaffaney correctly suspected Keith had noticed the patrol car and was trying to evade us by taking two quick corners, ending up almost back at the pub before being pulled over.
As the blue and red lights flashed behind him, the maintenance worker carefully indicated and parked in the Mailer St Countdown car park.
He got out of his work ute and passed Const Gaffaney the keys.
"Don't worry about getting me to blow the bag.
"I'm over the limit; just take me in."
But confession time wasn't over for Keith.
He then told Const Gaffaney this would be his sixth drink-driving conviction - his last was in June, so he was also driving while disqualified.
Keith was happy to chat while waiting for the tow truck to arrive to impound his employer's vehicle.
"I've got nothing to hide. I'm an idiot. What can I say?"
As he texted a mate to tell him he been "caught driving drunk again", Keith explained why he opted to drive, rather than make the 10-minute walk home or pay the $6 taxi fare.
"I'm fine to drive. I can do everything I have to.
"I just thought I could make it home without being caught."
I pointed out his speech was slurred and there was a slight stagger in his step, and questioned his ability to drive safely.
"I didn't have far to go. I thought I'd be OK."
Back at the station, Keith blew 683mcg. The legal limit is 400mcg.
He reckoned he had had four or five jugs of beer.
Senior Sergeant Mel Aitken arrived in the cell area to help the process and Keith greeted her like an old friend.
"You were here last time I was brought in. I asked you out," he said, laughing.
But this was no laughing matter and the father of two admitted he was scared of what would happen to him this time.
When he appeared in court in June for driving with a breath-alcohol level of 734mcg (he had tried to clutch-start his van and crashed it into a parked vehicle), the judge warned him he would be jailed next time he got caught behind the wheel drunk.
And he admitted he had lied to his employers when he told them he had a special permit allowing him to drive during work hours.
"I'll be fired. I've told them I can drive and they've given me the work car.
"Now they've got to get it out of impound."
He repeatedly said this would be the last time he would drink and drive, but then reluctantly admitted he also made that vow in June.
"This was the first time I've driven drunk since June, though," he said, sounding somewhat proud and sticking to that story despite my doubt he was telling the full truth.
Despite his now long list of convictions for drink-driving, dating back to when he was a 19-year-old, Keith hesitated when asked if he considered himself a criminal.
"It's not like I'm a thief or a burglar or anything. They p... me off. They've got no right to go and take stuff people work hard for.
"I'm not like that."
And, so, I thought, I was getting closer to the answer to the big question.
What makes an otherwise decent bloke repeatedly get behind the wheel drunk? Because he really did not think he was doing anything wrong.
Because bad stuff happened to other people.
"I know drunk drivers do kill people. But I wouldn't. I was fine to drive."
• Amelia's mascara was smeared down her face, her eyes bloodshot and her hand shaky as she signed the form stating she understood her rights.
However, it was not alcohol to blame for this dishevelled look.
Reality had just sunk in for this 18-year-old, who, while distraught and crying over her predicament, appeared sober.
It was 12.15am on December 18 when she was pulled over at a police checkpoint.
I met her in the sterile, concrete block room dedicated to processing drunk drivers at Dunedin Central Police Station, where she had just blown 196mcg.
"I just wanted to get home. It's my 18th birthday," she said, sobbing.
She had just left her friend's place after drinking one and a-half bottles of KGB (a vodka RTD) and was heading home early so she could get a good night's sleep before her birthday celebrations that day.
"I've been 18 for 15 minutes. What a great birthday."
She was clearly distraught and dreading having to tell her friends and family she had been caught drink-driving.
"I am so embarrassed, and disappointed in myself.
"I just can't believe it. It's not just me - I'm worried about so much.
"My family's going to read this in the paper and they'll be embarrassed, too.
"It's going to kill my grandmother; she'll have a heart attack."
While it crossed her mind she might be over the limit - it is 150mcg for anyone under 20 - Amelia seemed genuine when she said she believed she was safe to drive and felt "totally sober".
"I guess now I know I really can't have anything before I'm over the limit."
The graphic television advertisements warning of the dangers of drinking and driving worked for Amelia, she said.
"I hate them. I have to change channels. I think people who drive drunk are just stupid. And now I'm one of them," she said, as the tears again started streaming down her cheeks.
On the advice of a lawyer, Amelia requested a blood test, so it could be some months before her final fate is known.
But, regardless of what happens in court, the birthday girl knows she has now affected her future.
"Every time I apply for a job and I'm asked if I have criminal convictions, I have to say yes.
"This is with me forever."
As the doctor arrived to take the blood test, Amelia had a word of warning for readers.
"Just don't risk it. It's not worth it."
• These cases are before the court, so names have been changed for legal reasons.
