Local Man Hates His Friends

You are the unidentifed man who rescue teams spent Sunday night looking for on Stevens Pass until they found him at a friend's place in Issaquah.

You went skiing with your friends on Sunday, and got separated from them. You figured, "eh, I'll just meet them at the car." You went to your car. It was gone. Unbeknownst to you, your friends moved it to a better-lit area so that you would see it more easily. You assumed that the bastards went home without you.

Deserted on a mountain pass, you needed a place to sleep. The closest pad you could crash at was a friend's place in Issaquah. Shivering on the highway, you stuck out your thumb. You hitch-hiked back into Seattle on Highway 2 and then back out to Issaquah on 90. It took at least an hour.

Meanwhile, back at the mountain, rescue teams and sheriff's deputies were searching for you. You didn't check in with your friends--maybe because you were pissed at them for ditching you. Instead, you sunk into a restful sleep.

Monday morning, sheriff's deputies arrive at your friend's house. They have it as a possible address for you. They find you safe and sound--what a happy surprise for the deputies! And--another happy surprise--there's an outstanding warrant for your arrest! For drunk driving! You go with the deputies, and get booked into jail.

What are friends for?