Youthful Misadventures

“The Worst of Them All”

After making the hasty decision to move out of the Coon Rapids apartment I shared with C I ended up moving into a duplex in Minneapolis near the U of M campus with a guy I’d just met. S seemed ok at first, just a typical college student who needed help paying the rent since his last roommate moved out after graduating. S even told me it would be fine if I didn’t pay the first two months while I finished paying on the lease I shared with C.

S gave me total control over decorating which I loved, soon the house was painted with accent walls, I’d changed out the toilet, stove, fridge and added some cabinets and our own laundry so we didn’t have to share with the neighbors. The landlord was supposed to reimburse me for all the improvements and she absolutely did take it off the rent, S just never told me. While I waited for a check to come he was using my credits to pay his portion of the rent…for months…without a word.

S also continually tried to date me but I was interested in other people which pissed him off. He did manage to convince me to let him tag along on my family’s Alaskan cruise which, although he did give my dad $1200, I know it ended up costing my dad some money to have him come with. S would also team up with our neighbors to throw huge parties while I would be at work or class so I would often come home to tons of strangers in my house, my cats terrified and hiding out in my room which was never locked like it was supposed to be.

Besides not being truthful about the rent and his own broke as a joke financial situation S was also manipulative and passive aggressive in his efforts to convince me we should be a couple. It got to be where I didn’t even want to come home because I didn’t want to deal with him, especially if I was coming back from hanging out with other guys. S often acted jealous and possessive during the parties if I was talking with other guys even though we were not together. He’d also try to make me jealous by flirting and sleeping with tons of girls and then be angry when I didn’t care.

I think the worst thing S did happened when I had taken my yearly trip to California to visit my cousins. Shortly before I had left S asked if I would co-sign his next set of student loans. I declined, knowing full well the man had no money and honestly I didn’t think he would ever hold down a job so it would be a huge risk I would never take. He got pissed of course, but S was always pissed about something. While I was in California S went into my room (which I couldn’t lock because my cats’ food and litter box were in there) and rifled through all my things until he found one of my expired licenses I had thrown in a drawer. He also used my old address book and his graphic design skills to forge my name on his student loan documents. I wouldn’t find this out for two years.

Shortly after getting back from California I had decided it was time to find a new place since I had just learned that S had used my Best Buy account number to buy himself a $1500 computer set-up he had no intention of paying for, we fought so hard over that and he had promised to pay me back but I never received a dime for it in the end. I had recently graduated college and found a new job that paid more so I got myself a beautiful studio in an upscale building in St. Paul and said goodbye to S once and for all, or so I thought.

About two years after I moved out of the Minneapolis duplex I started receiving calls from Sallie Mae about owing on a student loan. My loans were all but paid off and I had never been late with a payment. They explained that the loans belonged to S and I had no idea why they wanted money from me for his loans. They sent me their “proof” that I was a co-signer and I about flipped my lid, actually I think I did flip out. I was so pissed. I called S, but the number I had for him wasn’t in service anymore. We didn’t really have any mutual friends so I had no idea where he was. I tried the old duplex but strangers lived there now. Sallie Mae didn’t believe me when I said I had never signed the loan application, even though it wasn’t my handwriting, or signature or even the correct spelling of my name.

Eventually it would take a year, a lawyer and a handwriting analysis report to convince Sallie Mae to release me from the forged student loan debts. My credit score took a huge hit that it still hasn’t fully recovered from and it made buying my first house more of a hassle, although in retrospect we really shouldn’t have bought that house. To this day I still get calls from Sallie Mae asking me if I know where S is or how to contact him about his delinquent loans. I keep telling them I haven’t talked to him in over 7 years and to please remove me as a reference but they never do. If I ever see S again there is the very real chance I will end up in jail for assault.

I now destroy all expired drivers licenses and opt for e-statements instead of paper billing…I do wish there would have been a less stressful and costly way to learn that lesson though.

Youthful Misadventures

“My Second Shitty Roommate Experience”

After I had moved out of the awful Ramsey house that nearly killed me and lost me two cats I got myself a one bedroom apartment and lived alone for a year. It was glorious. I loved it so much, sadly my bank account didn’t. I was working full-time but also going to school full-time and the expenses were starting to drain away all my money.

A friend of mine, C, from work wanted to get an apartment with me, we got along well so I figured it would be ok to live with her, after all she didn’t drink or do drugs and was pretty fiscally responsible. We found an apartment we liked and signed the lease. Right after we moved, before I could even unpack, I left for a long ago scheduled trip to California leaving my cats at my parent’s house so as to not burden my new roommate with taking care of them for a week.

When I got back I was severely sunburned and cranky plus I was facing a lot of unpacking to do. At first, when I got back, I thought C’s boyfriend, P, had come over to visit but when he hadn’t left after a couple of days I asked C what the hell was going on. She told me that he was staying in her room for a while. Awhile turned out to be a permanent thing. I requested that we add him to the lease, that we split the costs three ways. None of my requests were granted.

It was annoying enough to know I was paying more than my fair share for rent and utilities when there were clearly 3 people living there, but the situation got worse when P started drinking again. Side note, P was and is a horrible person with no regard for others or even his own children.

P would come home drunk and hit on me if C wasn’t around. I would tell C this and she wouldn’t believe me. P would text me inappropriate things which I would show C and she would tell me he must have meant to send the texts to her, even though they had my name in them. P would eat my food, drink my drinks and leave messes in the kitchen for us ladies to clean up. Plus C and P would fight all the time, very loudly…when they weren’t fighting they were fucking, also very loudly.

I think the breaking point for me was the day I came home to find P making a car bomb on my dining room table. I told C he needed to get out, she didn’t take my request seriously. I threatened to go to the management company and tell them P was living there and she got mad at me. By that time I didn’t even ever want to be at home because I disliked P so much. I ended up moving out several months before my lease was up because C just wouldn’t kick P out. In retrospect I should’ve just gotten my own place again because my next roommate turned out to be even worse, but that is a story for another day.

Youthful Misadventures

“My First Experience With Terrible Roommates”

By the age of 21 I really felt it was time to fly the coop and get the hell out of my parent’s house. I appreciated that they had provided me a place to live, rent free, as I put myself through college but it was getting too crowded in that house and I wanted to be free.

My idea of free was to move into a house with several other people roughly my own age. I knew the girl, E, who was renting the house and had been there several times the previous year as we had a mutual friend in common. She had always seemed like a responsible and god loving girl and I didn’t think it would be an issue. I would get the basement to myself and the rent was reasonable.

I was introduced to the other two residents, L & S, before I moved in and they were on their best behavior during that meet and greet. Naive me I didn’t realize there were total crazy faces lying just below the surface of those friendly demeanors. I packed up all my belongings (the contents of a bedroom basically) and persuaded a friend to lend me their truck to make the move two cities over.

After getting all my stuff unpacked I realized the basement bathroom was going to need a thorough cleaning since they had let a previous cat occupant use the entire floor of the bathroom/laundry area as its own personal litter box and had failed to clean any of it. I bought a ton of supplies and began to scrub every inch of the place.

I had poured some vinegar on the concrete floor to try and eliminate the cat urine scent. I was letting it soak as I walked over to the shower with a bucket of bleach water to get started on that. I tripped over something and my bucket went down, spilling the contents out onto the vinegar soaked floor. Vinegar and bleach are not supposed to mix, the result is a pretty toxic chlorine gas. Ooops. I fled the bathroom and opened the front door of the house to let in some fresh air. I got a face mask and went back in with a hose to dilute the solutions on the floor.

Eventually the gas dissipated and the bathroom was clean. At that point I felt safe bringing my two cats over to the new house. I wished that I had a door to my bedroom but figured my cats would stick close to me. I let them out to investigate the new surroundings. Micah stayed close to me but her sister (from the same litter) Emma bolted towards the hallway. I wasn’t worried, if she went upstairs I’d just go grab her. What I didn’t realize is that the guy, S, who lived there had opened the front door and propped the screen door open as well because he was bringing in groceries.

I came around the corner to find the front door wide open and no sign of Emma. I ran outside, slamming the door behind me. I could see Emma at the corner of the wood line on the side of the house. This house happened to be out in middle of a sparsely populated kinda rural area. I called to her but she was scared and wouldn’t come to me. I tried to go towards her but she fled into the woods. I grabbed a flashlight and went to look for her. I never saw her again. I searched for months, up until I had to move out of that house, but my cat was gone forever. I was devastated and so was Micah.

The roommates didn’t seem to care that my cat was gone. One of my friends gave me a new male kitten a couple of weeks later. He was cute and I was grieving so I kept him and named him Tovah. Yes I know it’s a girl’s name, I didn’t care.

Over the course of that summer the roommates threw many wild parties, almost every night. They used my xbox without permission, and borrowed my dvds whenever they felt like it. They ate my food, drank my drinks and never did the dishes. S would volunteer my bed to random dudes he’d invited to their parties and did coke (or maybe it was meth I tried so hard not to notice) in my bathroom, often leaving the dusty mirrors sitting on the counter. He would let his ferrets run around the house and then blamed me when one went missing after a party.

E & L were just as bad as S was but the worst thing they did happened as I was moving out. I had gotten my own apartment, determined not to have roommates after the nightmare they had put me through, and as I came back to get my cats I couldn’t find my kitten Tovah. I searched the entire house but couldn’t find him. Micah was there, just where I left her, but Tovah had somehow escaped the room I had put them in. I asked everyone but they all said they had no idea where he was. I searched the area but didn’t find him. I would later find out through a mutual acquaintance that L and S had stolen my kitten and taken him to their new apartment. E knew but wouldn’t tell me. When I found out I called the police, they refused to help telling me “it’s just a cat” and that I should just move on.

I vowed not to have roommates ever again, sadly I didn’t uphold that vow and would live to regret it.

Youthful Misadventures

“The Time I Lost My Brother At A MCS Show”

For the longest time my brother and I didn’t get along, probably because there’s over 7 years of age difference between us, but once I moved out of the house and he became a teenager we finally started to bond and create our own traditions together.

I decided to start introducing my brother to live concerts when he was 15, I figured if I loved going to shows when I was that age, he probably would too. I bought him a ticket to the Motion City Soundtrack show since he seemed to like their music too. One of my co-workers was already going to that show as well so we all decided to carpool (with me driving, we were, after all, going to First Ave and I had already learned not to let anyone else drive me there) there in a snowstorm. Co-worker was in the passenger seat and brother was in the back.

While I was paying attention to the road conditions and keeping us from sliding into other cars or snowbanks, co-worker was letting my brother have a “sip” of some vodka he had brought along. In the rearview mirror I saw my brother tilting the bottle up to take a swig. I told my brother that was all he was allowed to have, one sip, I didn’t want him getting drunk. I told co-worker to take the bottle back. I couldn’t see my brother filling his water bottle with vodka and so when my brother handed back the bottle I thought the matter had been taken care of.

We left our cell phones in the car when we arrived. I told my brother to stay close to me during the show. We walked into First Ave and I immediately went to my normal spot that I liked to watch concerts at to wait for MCS to take the stage. My brother asked if he could go in the mosh pit, I told him sure but to come back afterwards. He disappeared into the crowd. Co-worker and I chatted over the noise of the opening band neither of us knew or liked. I looked out in the crowd but couldn’t find my brother anymore. I wondered if he had gone to the bathroom. I had, after all, seen him down an entire bottle of water in the backseat of my car.

I asked co-worker to go check the bathrooms for him. He came back and said he didn’t see my brother in there. At this point MCS was about to take the stage. I was half worried and half pissed off that my brother was going to miss the show. I told myself he was probably in the crowd and I just couldn’t see him in the dimmed lighting. I didn’t enjoy the concert as much as I would’ve because I kept looking around the venue for my brother. As soon as the show was over I started roaming the entire club trying to find him. At this point I was extremely worried. I had no idea where he had gone. I was getting close to panicking because I couldn’t find him and had an awful feeling in my gut that something horrible had happened.

We went back out to my car to get my cell phone so I could start making some calls. I had several missed calls from my parents, normally I don’t listen to voicemails but this time I figured I better. As I listened to the voicemail my heart skipped a beat. Apparently my brother had wandered out of First Ave to cool down and they wouldn’t let him back inside because he was clearly intoxicated. He was not wearing a jacket, it was snowing outside. My brother wandered around downtown Minneapolis, randomly puking on the sidewalks until the police noticed him.

An ambulance was called, a trip to HCMC ensued, a stomach was pumped and my father was called, not to mention the hefty bill that occurred. Lets just say no one was pleased by the outcome of that night. I drove straight to my parents house even though it was the opposite direction of co-workers or my place to check on my brother and “explain” things to my parents. It was one of the least fun conversations I’ve ever had. Since I was clearly not drunk, nor was co-worker drunk, at least my parents believed me when I said I had not and would not knowingly allow brother to drink 16oz of vodka. I hoped that the experience would at least keep my brother from excessively drinking in the future, sadly I don’t think the lesson stuck with him, although he hasn’t, to this day, taken another drunken ride to the hospital in the back of an ambulance again.

I decided after that incident that no alcohol would ever be allowed in my vehicle if minors were going to be riding with us. No easy access for them, ever again!

 

Youthful Misadventures

“That Time We Got Mistaken For Hookers”

When I was 13, right before I started high school, I used to hang with a girl who lived in SE Minneapolis named EO. One day EO and I had taken the city bus down the Mall of America to meet up with our boyfriends. Yes I was one of those mallrats, it was the 90’s, it was a thing.

It was a pretty good day, EO and I had worn dresses because we wanted to look nice for the boys and a fun PG13 time was had by all. Eventually it was time for us to get on another city bus and head back to EO’s house. Except, EO in her infinite 12-year-old wisdom (I was 6mo older than her) had forgotten that Sunday bus routes were different from the rest of the week’s routes and there was no route after 3pm that would take us anywhere near her house. The closest we could do with our limited money would be to take the line that would drop us off at 35W and Lake St. EO’s house was down near 44th and Lake St. To those who know the area, they know the long trek that awaited us, for those unfamiliar let me assure you it was around 50 blocks, altogether, to get to EO’s house.

We had tried, once getting off the bus, to call EO’s mom, but she wasn’t home from work yet, we only had the one quarter so we couldn’t call anyone else as this was a time before there was such a thing as plentiful cell phones just given to teens by their hardworking parents. We decided there was nothing to do but start hoofing it. We began to walk down Lake St towards EO’s house. We got down to Hiawatha just as it was beginning to get dark out. As night fell we started to become a bit more nervous about our long walk ahead of us.

As we passed by the grocery story EO decided we should cross the street over to the south side. We crossed at the light but seconds after we started our east-bound trek we heard a car slow down behind us. A man leaned out the passenger window and asked us “fine ladies” how we were doing that night. We ignored the man and kept walking. The car, with no traffic behind it, continued to match our pace. The guy asked if we wanted a ride somewhere and we just kept ignoring him and walking down the sidewalk. Another car appeared behind the vehicle forcing the car to finally speed up and drive away. We felt relief and briefly discussed it amongst ourselves.

It was short-lived, however. A couple of minutes later the car was back. The man, more insistently this time, tried to engage us in conversation. He asked us if we needed some money, that we could make quite a bit of money. I turned and told him we weren’t interested. He replied that women not interested in making money shouldn’t be wearing dresses walking down Lake St in the dark. I ignored him and turned back to EO and kept walking, already regretting saying a word. Another car came along and forced the vehicle to drive forward again. By this time EO and I were extremely nervous.

I saw the car stop a block ahead of us and park, the guy got out of the passenger seat and started to walk towards us. EO and I began to panic, we looked around and we were walking right past a Rent A Center that was still open. We dashed inside immediately. We went up to the counter and begged the salesman to please let us use his phone. The guy refused. We told him there was a scary man outside trying to get us to go with him and we really didn’t feel safe. He started to hesitate but finally let us use the phone. We called EO’s house again and this time her mom picked up. We told her she had to come get us right away. She didn’t seem too happy but said she’d be there in 10 minutes.

We thanked the salesman for letting us use the phone and begged to be allowed to stand inside, quiet and making no trouble, until EO’s mom came for us. He wasn’t going to let us but one of us (I honestly can’t remember if it was EO or me) started quivering our lip, letting a tear emerge, to emphasise how afraid we were to go back outside and so he relented. We stayed in his sight near the door until EO’s mom pulled up outside. We thanked the salesman and dashed outside to her car. As we got in her vehicle we saw the creepy man still leaning against his car half a block up the street. It was a scary realization that if the salesman hadn’t let us stay inside that man might have forced us to go somewhere.

I should’ve vowed then and there to never again use public transportation, but sadly I was young and it would take one more lesson before that sank in. I will say this, I never again left the house with no money.

Youthful Misadventures

“That Time I Was Forced To Go Along (Unknowingly) On A Drug Run to Jordan, MN”

One of the nightclubs in downtown Minneapolis used to host a 16+ dance party from 7-11pm and my girlfriends and I would often go down and dance to the techno beats they played. Sometimes if we came early enough we’d even get to catch the tail end of an awesome punk show.

One such night I was there with M, N & TBF. M had driven us, this was the first time I wasn’t the group chauffeur, and M and I were in a great mood because we had gotten there early enough to see the last 40 minutes of a Dillinger Four show. Also, my on again, off again punk rocker boyfriend was there, being especially charming and introduced M and I to several members of the band after their show. N took advantage of M’s jovial disposition and asked if she was willing to give N’s “new friend” a ride home. M agreed and at the end of the night we all piled into her tiny Geo Metro to drop off some random dude in Jordan, MN.

Now had I been the one driving everyone, things might have been different. None of us realized where Jordan, MN was in relation to downtown Minneapolis. It was also in the opposite direction of the northern suburbs we all resided in. After what seemed like forever we arrived at a run-down trailer park where dude resided. Apparently I hadn’t been looped in on the whole story because when we arrived N insisted on going inside and begged us to come with her. I had just gotten a page from my parents and agreed to go inside if I could use the phone to call them back. It’s a good thing I called them before I realized what was going on.

When I called my parents to tell them why I wasn’t home yet I “truthfully at the time” told my parents we were just dropping off one of N’s friends and I’d be home soon, since M drove I couldn’t really do anything about it. My parents grumbled and told me to be home in 30 minutes, which was not going to happen, and I told them I’d insist we leave that minute. I turned around and saw N bartering with a grungy looking dude in his 40’s. I had assumed when I walked in it was dude’s dad and maybe it was, who knows, but I soon realized N had an ulterior motive for making us all trek to Jordan.

Laying on the coffee table was a huge bag filled with white powder. I got instantly annoyed. What the hell had N gotten us into. I walked over to where M was and asked if she knew what N was up to before we left the club, she told me she had but had thought N was just trying to get some weed. I became even more annoyed. They knew how I felt about hard-core drugs. I told M we had to leave and that I was going to go wait outside. N called my name and as I turned towards her and opened my mouth to speak I suddenly found her finger rammed in my mouth rubbing something on my gum. I felt them start to go numb.

I got pissed off. N asked me if it was “quality shit” and I retorted that I wouldn’t know but my gums were pretty numb. I grabbed M and dragged her outside stating I wanted no part of this. We waited outside for almost 10 more minutes until N and TBF came outside, both giggling like school girls. In my best imitation of my mother I screamed at them to get the fuck in the car. If I recall correctly I lectured them the entire ride home about their poor life choices. I even had some choice words for M about enabling such things. I didn’t realize that N had purchased an entire bag of cocaine and had it stashed in her purse. Probably good I didn’t find out till afterwards, who knows what I would’ve done.

After that I stopped hanging out with N and TBF. I didn’t want to be associated with coke users. Not sure what happened to them, they’ve dropped off the map as far as I’m concerned though last time I checked their lives were both in tailspins. I never let anyone else be my chauffeur again. I was determined to never be put in that situation and was willing to be the one spending all her money on gas to ensure that I had control over the vehicle. I also vowed to never go to Jordan, MN again…no good comes of it.

Youthful Misadventures

“That Time I Got Roofied”

Back in my early high school days I would often hang out at a small coffee shop in downtown Anoka, called Cafe Ami, with my friends. There was a wide assortment of patrons at that cafe and for the most part we had a good comradery with everyone, including the owner. As with all places there were a couple of unsavory elements who also frequented the cafe.

Around the time that I obtained my cat Micah there were several other kittens in that litter that needed homes. My parents had me asking everyone I knew if they wanted a kitten. We had found homes for all but one little black tuxedo kitten I had named Pete. One Sunday when my parents came to pick me up they brought Pete with them, hoping her adorable cuteness would win over a cafe patron. One guy, who we called Cowboy Andy, came over to my group of friends crowded around my parent’s vehicle and offered to take Pete. He was an adult and my mother promptly handed the kitten over to him before I could say a word. I was not too pleased to see Pete leave with Andy but no one seemed to care about my misgivings.

The following Saturday I was back at Cafe Ami with my regular group of friends but this time another friend, D, had begged to come with so she could check out the cafe. I was hoping to see Andy so I could check on Pete, I missed the little kitten and was worried about her wellbeing. As D and I sat at the cafe chatting Andy walked in. He came right over to my table and started a conversation. I asked about Pete and he didn’t seem to want to discuss it. He tried to change the subject and asked if D and I wanted to come to his place for some drinks. I declined the offer and again inquired about Pete. He said Pete was back at his apartment and I could come check on her if I wanted.

D jumped up and said, “let’s go, I want to drink” and started following Andy out the door. I really didn’t want to leave the cafe, my other friends had left to take a short walk together and I didn’t want to disappear without them knowing where I was. I also didn’t really want to go to Andy’s apartment, we were 15 and he was close to 30…I felt it was a creepy thing to do. D, meanwhile, was already out the door and walking down the block following Andy so I left the cafe and followed them to keep an eye on her.

We got to Andy’s apartment about 5 blocks from the cafe and I went in search of Pete, yet there was no sign that a cat lived in that apartment. No litter box, no cat toys, no bowl of food or water. I asked Andy where Pete was and he told me a neighbor had taken her since he wasn’t really a cat person. I got pissed off and said I wanted to leave. D was already chugging her first beer. I declined the cheap can of beer Andy offered me and grabbed an unopened Mt. Dew instead. D went all marathon on the beer and had downed 3 before I had even finished half of my soda. Andy was trying to get me to talk and sit next to him, I kept jumping up and pacing around the apartment trying to avoid him, I had zero interest in him. He was, at least, ignoring D and her obvious drunken ramblings though. She would have been an easy target for him.

After he tried to get handsy with me I excused myself and headed towards his bathroom. I sat in there for a minute planning my escape. I came back out and finished off my Mt. Dew then went over to where D was sitting and tried to get her attention. Andy headed into the bathroom and I grabbed D’s arm and dragged her protesting self out of Andy’s apartment and was practically running by the time we got outside the apartment complex. I kept telling her it was important we leave and that we had to hurry back to the cafe. She stumble-ran behind me a couple blocks before Andy realized we had left and came after us. He caught up with us when we were only a half block from Cafe Ami and tried to convince us to come back to his apartment. I refused and dragged D back inside.

He went to work on us again in the cafe, trying very hard to convince us that we needed to go back to his place. I stood up and said very loudly, in front of the owner and numerous other patrons, that I wasn’t interested in going anywhere with him and that he needed to leave us alone. He bent down and whispered something to D and she giggled and then got up and said she was going to go see the foot bridge with Andy. I told her that was a terrible idea and that she should really just stay with me at the cafe. She didn’t listen and left the cafe with him. I refused to go, I had a bad feeling and didn’t want to leave the safety of the cafe. After about 10 minutes though, I became very worried for D’s safety and convinced another acquaintance that had shown up to come with me to look for D.

We found her leaning half way over the railing of the foot bridge over the river. I felt a moment of terror when she wavered pretty far but she managed to right herself on her own. Andy was just standing by her, laughing about how drunk she was. I got pissed off. I grabbed D and yelled at her and dragged her down under the foot bridge where a whole group of people I knew were sitting. Andy followed us but knew he wasn’t welcome in the group. He stood off to the side, hovering and trying to get D to come back out for a walk. The group under the bridge were passing a bottle of Yukon Jack around. I took a small sip, it tasted terrible and I spit it out. Andy disappeared and I decided it was probably safe to make a break back to the cafe.

I stood up and wave of dizziness washed over me. I almost stumbled but managed to right myself up. I grabbed D and started dragging her up the hill and across the field towards the cafe. Out of nowhere Andy popped out of the woods and started following us again. I started running with D in tow. I was flat-out scared at that point. I also was starting to feel pretty nauseous and didn’t know why. I fled towards the cafe and as soon as I was inside I grabbed the bathroom key and pulled D and I inside it, locking it behind us. I immediately went to the toilet and started vomiting. I was getting more and more dizzy and scared not knowing what the hell was going on. I grabbed D and told her to go find E and T and let them know something was wrong. I could faintly hear Andy on the other side of the door begging D to let him in so he could help me, so that I could come “sleep it off’ at his apartment. I told her if she let him in the bathroom our friendship was over. Then I sent her outside to find my friends and pushed the door closed before Andy could come inside. The last thing I remember before I blacked out was LM popping into the bathroom telling me D had left and gotten a ride home with A, taking my purse with her. I told her something was wrong and reiterated that no one should let Andy in. Then there was only blackness.

I regained consciousness to paramedics kneeling over me. They told me I was lucky that someone knew I was in the bathroom or I might have died, they seemed to think I had alcohol poisoning. No one would listen when I told them all I’d had to drink all night was a peach Snapple and a Mt. Dew. I had spit out the sip of Yukon Jack and a sip wouldn’t have had much of an effect anyway. They ignored my argument and walked me out. I became quite belligerent at that point. I started screaming at the paramedics about how I hadn’t been drinking. I screamed at T and E sitting there watching me. I even screamed at my dad who had been called to come pick me and E up. Most of the night after blacking out is a blur though. I know we went home and I fell asleep pretty immediately. I feel like my mom and dad yelled at me prior to me falling asleep but I can’t remember what they said. I know I kept reiterating that I hadn’t been drinking. No one would believe me.

I woke up at 4am and went to the bathroom. I felt completely fine and got a drink of water. I woke E up and asked her what had happened. She told me I had gotten drunk and made a scene at the cafe. I again stated I hadn’t been drinking. We both went back to sleep. At 6am my parents came and woke us with loud noises. I was confused about what was going on but my parent’s seemed to think I’d have a hangover and this was supposed to be torture. They made us go to church under the assumption that the loud organ and singing would further make me feel terrible. When I had no obvious symptoms of a hangover they finally believed me that I hadn’t been drinking. I told them the whole story about Andy and D and my mother, the nurse, said it sounded like I must have been drugged then.

No one could find Andy for weeks after that. I found out that on top of slipping me a roofie in my Mt. Dew he had also drowned Pete in the river the night my parent’s gave her to him. I was so mad. I had to have my parents come with me to explain to the owner of the cafe that I hadn’t actually been drinking but had been drugged by Andy because he didn’t believe me when I told him and he had wanted to ban me from the cafe. Instead he ended up banning Andy. Sadly no criminal charges were ever brought against that sick fucker who drowned my kitten and slipped me a roofie but I’m just glad that I woke up to paramedics instead of an asshole sexually abusing me. After that I never left any drink unattended ever again.