"They sort of all hit at the same time," says the friendly Ford representative as he straps what feels like 20-some pounds of weight to my right forearm, when I ask in which order I would experience the simulated effects of marijuana, cocaine, LSD, heroin, and ecstasy brought on by Ford's "Drugged Driving Suit." Or, at least, that's to paraphrase what he says. I can't write down his quip because my right hand is stuffed into an open-finger glove with a tangerine-sized vibrator attached to it; also, my elbows and knees have movement-restricting sleeves Velcro'd over them, another 20-something-pound weight drags on my left ankle, and my face is partially covered by vision-altering goggles. I am standing in the middle of Ford's stand at the Detroit auto show, gearing up to perform a series of seemingly simple tasks. The Ford guy drops a pair of headphones over my ears, switches on my wrist vibrator, and my simulated buzz begins.

I've been volunteered by my co-workers to see how Ford's impairment-simulating "suit" might cause young drivers or anyone else to think twice before driving under the influence. Ford also has a suit simulating old age and another simulating extreme drunkenness, but I go for the one mimicking being on drugs, as I'm told it's the most intense. Surely there aren't many instances where one might spark up a joint, snort a line, inject heroin, and ingest a psychedelic in a single sitting—let alone do so and live—but Ford's suit appears to give its all in the simulation of their combined effects.

Once I'm fully suited up, colored lights blink and flash in my eyes, the vibrator tremors my wrist, and I am led to my first task: Walking a line like that in a field-sobriety test. The asymmetric weighting of my right arm and left leg makes balancing difficult, and the goggles' inconsistently focused lenses and obscured periphery are disorienting. The headphones play tones that sound as though they're far away on one side, while in the opposite ear noises that seem closer bleep, bloop, and occasionally dull into a low roar. I proceed forward, heel-to-toe, in a wavy mess of swaying, stumbling, and general loopiness. It doesn't really matter that I manage to hold the line—were this a real-life traffic stop, the inquiring police officer would have ample reason to suspect I was on something.

Sweating heavily, I stagger over to my next activity. Ford's auto-show stand has a simulator for its new trailer-backup system, wherein F-150 drivers can back up a trailer using a small dashboard knob to the right of the steering wheel. Simply entering the simulator—a real F-150 with a large display behind it depicting a digital "trailer" you reverse down a made-up course—was a challenge. During the demonstration, my weighted "steering" arm consistently navigates the trailer hard to the right. Unable to moderate my inputs, I lean over and assist my right hand with my left, wrangling that arm under the steering wheel. My performance only marginally improves, and my two-handed grip on a silver-dollar-sized knob looks absurd. My digital trailer crashes multiple times.

By the time I drunk-robot-walk my way to my final test, a drive in an F-series truck simulator, a small crowd has gathered. Or maybe it was only photographer Michael Simari and the Ford representative. The goggles continue to double up my view forward and send my vision in and out of focus. Signing the required pre-ride waiver takes minutes, and entries for my name, phone number, address, the date, and signature end up all over the page and written in shaky chicken-scratch. I'm directed to use a small staircase to enter the driving simulator. I ask which one. At this point, my right hand is going numb from the constant tremoring, and the sensation of "the spins" is getting stronger. While I try to buckle my seatbelt, Simari proclaims that it'd be great for our video if I threw up during the driving simulation. It's entirely possible, since the rig tilts, dips, and gyrates in sequence with the simulated bumps while I flail at the wheel. My reactions are delayed by the body weights, and my drunken head swaying makes focusing on the video game through those damn goggles extremely taxing. I crash repeatedly.

Without firsthand experience of using multiple drugs at once, I can't say for sure how accurate Ford's Drugged Driving suit really is. What I can say for sure is that it hampers the wearer's ability to keep his or her bearings, balance, and wits, which is true of drugs, too. While the demonstration is convincing, our inner teenager isn't so sure. Certainly, the suit makes plain the dangers of driving while impaired. Trouble is, watching someone wear the suit also is hugely entertaining. Consider the message mixed. For an idea of how uncomfortable the suit is, you can watch my struggle in the video below; the clip is light on narration, mostly because it took tremendous concentration just to perform the tasks at hand without falling over.

From: Car and Driver

This content is created and maintained by a third party, and imported onto this page to help users provide their email addresses. You may be able to find more information about this and similar content at piano.io