Among other things, i’m a well-characterized drunk. My first drunk occurred when i was 13, and ever since, i’ve managed to hone my drinking behavior, based on an intuitive iterative process.
For example, i don’t drink tequila, as it makes me mean and i get in bar fights. Sometimes while only partially clothed. i also don’t like to drink too much wine, especially red, as it gives me a horrific headache, and just the worst kind of hangovers. If i drink to extreme excess? My body is highly efficient in clearing toxins, and i am prone to blowing chunks.
But last night? Something was quite different….
Friday night, i attended a lovely party, kicking off Pride Week in our little burg. Rooftop venue, complete with a fabulous drag show and Monte Carlo style gaming. Since it was a fundraiser, we went for the VIP tickets, giving us swag bags and unlimited drinks!
It was a hoot! Beautiful evening, overlooking the minor league baseball stadium. View of the giant fountains launching water-fireworks from the river. Engaging, eclectic crowd – maybe 200 people. i wasn’t the designated driver, so i happily swilled white wine, as we played games, watched the entertainers, and horsed around with the crowd.
i got hammered. Seriously hammered. Vague recollection of some of the following when i woke up this morning. Other details? Provided by Studley McRocklegs during our Saturday morning bike ride.
– Walking a dominatrix from the party to a local club.
– Being verbally abused by a dominatrix as we walked hand-in-hand to a local club.
– Insisting it would be ok for me to take a leak on a tree in the middle of downtown as we walked back to the car.
– Taking a leak on a tree in the middle of downtown.
– Chasing down, and chatting up, a spiky-haired lesbian at the party, because she told me i was a good dancer.
– Giving my phone number to a spiky-haired lesbian.
– Discussing body modification with a couple of young men. Who decided to show me the mods to their penises.
– Grabbing two modified penises with my fingers, and pretending they were swords, while yelling “Cock fight!”
– Getting home somewhere around midnight, being effectively carried to my bed by Studley – but not before asking my daughter “has the dog been out to pee?” about five times.
i suspect there’s more…
Waking up only at 4:00 am to take out my contacts, i returned to bed and continued to sleep soundly until 8:00 am. Dreaming of zombies. Studley had opened my bedroom windows to let fresh air in, and parked a trash can beside my bed in case i needed it. My daughter had brought me a glass of water.
Somewhere around 9:00 am, my daughter poked her head in my room to check on me.
The Girl: Hey! i can’t believe you’re up already! You must feel like hell – you were incredibly drunk last night. You couldn’t even walk without help.
daisyfae: Ummm…. i feel ok. A little tired, and i can’t feel the tip of my tongue for some reason, but it’s not that bad.
Did my normal Saturday morning routine, walked the dog, checked Facebook – discovering two friend requests from lovely lesbians i’d met the night before. One with a message saying “You are so much fun! Great meeting you last night – even though we only talked briefly, it was one of the highlights of the party for me!”
i couldn’t really remember talking with her. Or her friend.
i pinged Studley about our planned morning bike ride. He was just as surprised that i was awake, not hurting, and planning to ride.
Did a 20-miler, and as we talked through the events from the night before, i realized there were at least 2-3 hours missing from my memory banks. It wasn’t until we were on the final leg home that i asked him “What do you think the odds are that someone slipped something in my drink?”
Studley: When I brought you home last night, I asked you if you thought someone had given you a Roofie.
daisyfae: Guess what? i don’t remember that… You’ve seen me drunk. This wasn’t typical, was it?
Studley: At one point? I noticed that you seemed to get really drunk – your behavior changed sort of dramatically. Then you went off chasing women…
daisyfae: i should have been really hung over this morning. But i wasn’t. And i didn’t puke.
So there it is. Baby’s first roofie. No idea regarding the who or why – assuming that i most likely drank wine that belonged to someone else.
While this wasn’t exactly something on my bucket list, i have learned a valuable lesson: Rohypnol turns me into a lesbian predator.