OK SO. Obviously I don't know with ABSOLUTE CERTAINTY 100% that I was roofied, but I am pretty sure based on my problem solving and critical thinking skills. Here are the facts:
1. I drink a lot. Like, every day. It's not something I'm proud of (maybe a little) but that's fact 1. An average night going out, I can put away 7 or 8 drinks. Of course there are times that I get sloppy or something, but I NEVER BLACK OUT. I can always get home. Last night, I had four drinks that I remember, which honestly is roughly the amount that makes me slightly more sociable.
2. I was at a show of a band I love and had been looking forward to seeing, which I missed because I became unconscious.
3. I literally remember everything super clearly up until one point where I completely do not remember anything after that.
4. I was alone at one point getting a drink while my boyfriend held our spots, in the break between the second opener and the main act. I do not remember anything after this.
5. I had plans with friends after the show, and I always try not to flake. I hate flakes.
This morning I woke up and realized my contacts were still on my eyeballs. This was a very startling thing, because I'm panicky about eyeball health (it's my moneymaker) and I always, always remember to take out my contacts no matter what. I immediately got up and took them out and had that wtf moment where I thought, What happened last night??
My boyfriend woke up around this time and proceeded to fill in the gaps for me. I came back upstairs after buying my last drink, where I got very belligerent and embarrassed him. I wobbled and bumped into people. I got loud, rookie drunk. He dealt with it for a few minutes before I confided in him that I GOTTA GET OUT OF HERE. He became anxious and tried to navigate me out of the venue where I tried to lie down on the sidewalk outside and passed out. The bouncer tried to help him with me and he hailed a cab, picked me up off the sidewalk, and put me in it. I'm completely unconscious already. He carried me out of the cab, into our apartment, and put me in bed, and tried to wake me up – I did not wake up. He considered calling an ambulance but the no insurance thing was a factor so he just let me sleep.
Being all detective-y, we tried to piece it together. He said my last drink, a neat whiskey, looked a funny color, and he noticed it, but didn't say anything. It happened extremely quickly. I was alone for long enough for someone to maybe think I was at the show by myself.
The feeling I feel most is PISSED OFF. I missed the show. I live in a neighborhood where people will roofie you. I have never paid any attention to my drinks because I never thought I had to, I liked the neighborhoody vibe of Williamsburg where bars aren't a scene and people look out for each other. I don't get hit on in bars, we don't get in fights. It's not fucking Manhattan. But I guess it is now and that really, really pisses me off. I feel tense and violated and under attack, like when someone once made a racist comment to me in a Dumbo bar – I'm reminded that I'm a girl, which is a thing I'd really rather forget.
