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.
And what an easy lesson it seems to have been. You had fun, didn’t get hurt, made some new friends and made the blogosphere (well this bit of it) smile until my face hurt. AND no hangover. And I couldn’t ride for 20 miles without a big night out. I am jealous.
If only life lessons were usually that easy.
And apparently i entertained the other attendees as well… just wish i could remember. that’s a lousy feeling… oh, and i still can’t feel the tip of my tongue completely. weird.
I’ve heard of worse outcomes. 🙂
yep. it could have been pretty awful… and i’m not even talking about the CSI: Pride Party edition! i’m usually careful – and it would be highly unlikely for me to drink much at all if i didn’t have friends in the house. they noted the extreme behavior, and were tracking…
I think no hangover is probably the key to the mystery here. There is no way I could be that chipper after being that drunk. Just thinking about it makes my mouth taste like the bottom of a bird cage. You have a good friend in Studly though. He’s a keeper.
yes. i was able to explain away all of the other stuff, but that’s the big one. Studley is my best friend, and did a damn fine job with the safety net…
I’m sure glad you had someone there to take care of you. That’s some scary shit.
But I like the lesbian predator outcome. 🙂
it has rattled me a bit. because i know the couple who host the party – and have been to other rooftop events there, it felt like a different event. i let my guard down just a bit much… but who the hell would want to drug a middle-aged hippie woman, when there are tons of other hotties running around?!?!? it was certainly an accident…
There you go, showing off with your wonderful and thought provoking sexual encounters, and yet no photies!
..and I thought you was my pal.
there will be pictures, my friend. another friend of mine had her camera and was working the crowd all evening. i’m a little frightened to think what she’s going to turn up!
Spiky haired variety of lesbienne is most toothsome. The tree pee is fantastic, nutritionally generous to the tree and free entertainment for downtown spectators.
i’m sure she was delightful…. and i do feel bad if i led her on, or attempted to club her and drag her back to my cave. sure wish i remember. only a snippet memory of the pee incident – the moment when another couple was walking down the street toward us… that’s a really bad saturday morning memory, by the way.
Oh. My. Glad you’re still alive to tell the tale …
yep. we laugh about it, but i am quite aware that this could have ended about a million different ways, most of them bad.
really? you think you got slipped something?
awesome post. love the no shame posting of such events.
lesbian predator = we all like it really! (wink wink)
20 mile bike ride the day after means you weren’t really hungover, just still incredibly pissed!
i resisted going down that path to explain this – because it’s far-fetched. but the lack of hangover – when i KNOW i would have had one? wasn’t still pissed because i couldn’t have done the ride, and the hangover never hit…
i tend to consider myself omnisexual – attaching to people rather than plumbing – so my friends weren’t entirely surprised when i decided to make the most of a target-rich environment. the predatory part is the strange bit – i don’t do that. drunk or sober. i don’t try to pick people up. that’s the roofie talkin’…
Been there done that (rohypnol, not the cock fight) … kind of an eerie feeling when you realize you’ve been roofied (is that a word?) but oh so glad you had the sense to pee in public 🙂
i was a bit vexed. more rattled, actually. i was in active denial at first – “No, that couldn’t have happened”. but yeah, as it sunk in? weird as hell.
Ya know, I lived in the Lower East Side when it was seriously infested with drugs and drew the the type of crowd that courts danger. But I’ve never had an evening like that. Go Buckeye State!
When did daughter get back from London? Is she in love with the place or is it a case of an itch has been scratched.
i had warned my daughter of such dangers before her trip to London. which is why she was stunned that i got roofied at home. we have been unable to pin down the who, but it’s narrowed down to a particular time frame – we were playing 5 card stud poker, spiky haired lesbitarian sitting next to me, not playing, and the two modified boys were the dealers.
she got back around the time our mutual friend was visiting you in NYC. she loved it. and he is now her “London Dad”. i loved that they got to hang out together… he was supposed to be her father.
“who the hell would want to drug a middle-aged hippie woman, when there are tons of other hotties running around?!?!?”
I doubt if the “tons of other hotties” would have been nearly as FUN and EXCITING as you my dear!
In fact, I can pretty much guarantee they wouldn’t have been! 🙂
Glad you have such an awesome friend there in Studly … he rocks! 🙂
it is entirely possible that it was a light dose, just to get me wound up to see what i’d do… makes me pretty sad, though, as i was having a wonderful time up to that point.
You just know I’m taking notes don’t you? I once fell off a roof I was re-tiling and knocked myself out … I guess I was roofied as I definitely like women now …
Now that you mention it – it was a roof-top party. Maybe someone misunderstood what that meant?
Thankfully Studley was there to watch your back. Otherwise, that could have been a very scary adventure.
No laws against public urination there?
I looked up your symptoms but could find nothing related to tongue tip numbness. However, any drugs may be detectable up to 48 hours. Perhaps you should have it checked out?
Glad you’re okay.
i’m fairly selective as to when i have more than 2-3 drinks — and there must be a designated driver on scene. one that i trust. he’s solid.
yes. public urination is illegal. that would have been bad.
tongue is better, but it’s still not quite back. i did the same search and turned up nothing. considered going to get bloodwork done, but decided not to for a variety of reasons – mostly because the prospect of the local police attempting to sort this out would have been darkly comic, but ultimately fruitless.
I actually have 2 friends who were roofied at a local bar. Society is just becoming too weird. What the heck is the motivation? “Maybe I’ll see this woman later and she’ll be so out of it, she’ll have sex with me.”? It’s a stranger, and they don’t know that Studly isn’t your husband, so what’s the point? I’m moving to a really bizarre Asian country where they cut off your head if you do anything wrong. It’s got to be more organized in those places. Tough on heads, though.
some combination of making another human lose all inhibitions (of which i have few to shed, by the way), or triggering the temporary amnesia that makes it impossible to remember what you did when you didn’t have any inhibitions… it’s pretty evil. moving to a place with a zero-tolerance policy would have advantages, but then it’s all on the court system, and skills of the investigating police officers.
If I roofie myself, maybe I’ll get a lesbian’s phone number, too. Hmm. Something to consider.
she hasn’t called. why does that make me feel just a little dissed?
i’m not so sure… i think she made a pretty wise choice!
Daisyfae you weren’t roofied when we were together on Lesbos and I remember thinking a couple of the lesbians downstairs might have ended up in your bed that night of the big BBQ…..
i can’t help it! she looked like a young billy idol, and was wearing leather!?!?
That just sounds like a good night, i’m wondering if you were roofied though, hell half a crushed valium and booze will make you forget and ease the hangover plus make you a bit groggy the next day, not like i’ve done that or anything, i mean i usually eat at least 3 and then piss myself, sometimes you can just drink like a fish and come out the other side with all your scales intact.
i was counting on you to provide some additional insight, my expert friend! had thought that vicodin/valium in wine was another possibility. thing is, i know that too much wine always ruins me for the first 6 hours of the next day -which is why i don’t get drunk on wine. still a mystery, but i agree that it might have been something a little less wild than rohypnol… although nothing makes you shed your inhibitions like a roofie…
Okay, seriously, I totally almost wet myself at this post.
Mainly because the thought of the word “cock” makes me giggle like a schoolgirl…
Sorry about the roofies though, at least you weren’t hung over!
Would you tell Studly that I wave enthusiastically at him?
when my inhibitions are fairly low to start with? a little chemical support, and i’m surprised i wasn’t swinging on a stripper pole. could have ended very badly, however, as i was on a rooftop, about 6 stories above pavement… Studley waves back!
always good to know…heck of a way to find out though sounds like one rip roarer of a fun night
nice to know that i provided additional entertainment… i just wish like hell i could remember it all…
wow, sugar! just WOW! ;~D xoxoxox
my lifestyle brings a certain amount of risk. along with a certain amount of entertainment value…
Bloody brilliant this made me chuckle what we need now is this to happen again soon but with camera crew in tow. Guarantee the entire blog network of superfriends and villains would pay per view for this….I would.
delighted to have provided even more entertainment! there are pictures from the evening starting to emerge… i’m scouring them to see if i can find the dastardly culprit, surrepticiously slipping something evil in my wine glass…
Sounds like me on one of my old black-out nights. And I love gay clubs! People there are so friendly, and eager to have fun. Not like some of the clubs you go to where everyone thinks your eye-fucking them just because you’re drunk out of your mind and find yourself spacing off while looking at them. And then my being the bitch that I am has to say something real snotty like, “Don’t flatter yourself, okay!” I make friends everywhere I go when I’m drinking my Jack. Well, at least you weren’t hung-over. That’s more than I can say for my morning-after’s.
i’ve generally avoided black-out nights… in over 30 years of getting drunk, there has only been one other… this was just freaky-weird. awaiting the analysis of the photos tonight to see if any nefarious behavior (mine or others) is identified…
well I’m certainly glad you got out of that situation alive. Rohypnol and alcohol are not a recommended mix; together they can make you dead.
But at least you had a wonderful time and so lucky Studley was there to protect you and get you home in one piece.
i got lucky. no doubt. but i recognize that i choose to live a life with more risk than most
intelligentnormal folks. it is a choice. i make it knowing that i may not always find such luck…
actively building in the safety net – Studley, and others – and sometimes BEING that net – is part of the risk mitigation approach. but it ain’t foolproof. nothing is….
Vigorously nodding my head in agreement with all the comments above. 🙂
Welcome to the trailer park, Fresh! i’m slammed this week, but will stop by your blog to say “hi” when i get some time this weekend!
Have I ever told you that I think you’re a fabulous dancer?
thank you dear, but you don’t need to flatter me to make me have a massive girlcrush on you! just post more links of you singing….