We're only telling close friends and family...is there a 12-Step-Program in Sydney's Future?

Had Vegas laid odds...Vegas would have lost. When asked the question, which Mosiman woman would most likely be given a Breathalyzer?, a clarifying question would inevitably be introduced. "Did you mean a Breath Saver," you might inquire. No...Breathalyzer.  "Oh." you might respond, thinking hard, "Well, I guess if I had to guess, it would be Amy although she tends to enjoy licking the salt off the rim of the glass rather than actually drinking the contents." HA! Then you, my friend, would be WRONG! Ha ha ha ha ha!

A little background first. Adorably clad in skin tone-accentuating orange, Sydney Mosiman works behind the grill as a self-described "Sandwich Artisan."  She was recently complimented with additional duties and now also mans the fryer which has the side benefit of aerating skin pores. When, after a long shift of tirelessly feeding the masses, Sydney arrives at home, she is welcomed with loving greetings from her family. "Ewww...you stink!" "Sydney...go take a shower!" "My goodness, do you chop onions for a living or roll in them?"

With that in mind, Sydney was driving home late the other night at Sunday-Going-to-Church-Grandma-Speed (because if she gets a speeding ticket, she's off her parent's insurance policy) when she noticed flashing lights signaling her to pull over. Oh no! As the police officer approached her car, Sydney rolled down her window and the scent emitting from her car nearly bowled him over. Apparently the combined concoction of condiments had congealed. My "Sandwich Artisan" was now an "Alcoholic Aficionado." I guess this makes sense. Can't you make potatoes into vodka? Perhaps the aromatic mixture of ketchup, french fry grease and onions emulates tequila? To her horror, Sydney was administered a Breathalyzer. Shockingly, the reading was conclusively negative. Whew! Exonerated of inebriation, Sydney prepared to leave and was then shocked when she was handed not one, but two tickets. The officer tried to explain that one of her front headlights was out but it was difficult to hear him over the sound of her exhaust. And on that (very) loud note, Sydney went home...exhausted.