True test of friendship

I wasn’t going to blog about this…I don’t even want to think about it, but it is all that has been on my mind since I got roofied at the Brand New show at Northern Lights last week.

It’s scary not remembering what happened to you when you knew you were sober.  What’s even worse is feeling like you can depend on someone and then finding out they let you down in a monumental fashion.

It was 4:30 p.m. Wed. April 28 when my friend asked me if I wanted to go to the Brand New show with him that night.  I was hesitant as it was my last class of the semester that night, but after he pleaded with me to go I agreed and got excited for the show.  I love concerts because I love listening to live music not because I like getting fucked up, so when he asked me if I wanted to drink before the show I was hesitant again, but I agreed to drink a few, catch a buzz, stop drinking, and drive his drunk ass home.

At 5:45 I made my own mixed drink of OJ and vodka, not too strong and not too sweet, and sipped casually on the 24 oz. as we made our way to Clifton Park.  I felt completely sober still as we got out of his car at 6:30 and walked into the show.  I went to the bathroom and my friend got me  Heineken at my request…I watched the bartender pour the foamy goodness out of the tap.

We quickly left the bar to go and see the opening act.  I didn’t know who they were then, and I don’t know now.  I remember thinking it was odd that everyone was just standing and watching, like zombies caged off from live bait, in a trance waiting to attack.  I laughed at the people around me and began dancing, something I do in every state of being sober to shitfaced.

That is the last thing I can remember.  I was sober, dancing to a mediocre band, and then there is nothingness, a black hole where my memory of a great show should be. 

I know I didn’t get drunk, and my friend has verified that the Heineken was the last thing he saw me consume.  However, according to my friend after returning from another trip to the bathroom I was all excited about getting a shot from a stranger.  When I heard him say that I didn’t think much of it, but after I gained some sort of coherent thought I realized that is not me.  One, I hardly do shots even when my closest friends are begging me to do one (I’m more of a beer and wine type of girl), and two, I do not, I repeat DO NOT, take drinks from strangers, maybe when I was a 16-year-old dumbass, but I’ve been partying enough to know that is never a smart idea.

Anyways….20 minutes after I apparently did this “shot” my friend said I started acting crazy, not Bridget drunk crazy, but Bridget like he’s never seen me before crazy, like I was a different person, like I was on drugs.  Shortly after my episode began I started getting sick.  At this point my friend called my boyfriend, who was working up in Schroon Lake about an hour and a half north of us, and told him he thought I was roofied and he was bringing me home. 

Like the wonderful boyfriend he is, Thomas went racing down to Albany to meet us and help take care of me.  Like the asshole friend I have, Jimmy locked me in his car after he was sure I was passed out and went back in to enjoy the show.

All of this I don’t remember, all of this is a testament from my “friend” who for almost two hours left me in his car, fucked up on roofies, while he hooked up with some random girl from Brooklyn or somewhere.  Jimmy, my friend who I had become very close to over the past year, who I thought would be the one person besides Thomas to really make sure nothing bad happened to me, left me to possibly die in his car.  If someone would have told me he would let that happen to me I would have laughed and defended him to the end.  He was like my brother, I completely trusted him to keep me safe.

But thank god nothing horrible happened to me, or at least I don’t think anything horrible happened.  I think that is the worst part.  I don’t know what happened while he was in the show, he wasn’t there and whoever had slipped me something could have easily been watching all this happen and came to do god knows what to me. 

We got back to Albany at some point, once Jimmy was done enjoying Brand New, and Thomas was there waiting at my apartment after having driven all over Albany looking for us, freaking out I’m sure. I don’t remember any of it, Thomas said I was definitely drugged, he had never seen me act like that and never will again. 

The first thing that I remember is waking up to puke in the moring, and then waking up again and again as I continued to get sicker and sicker.  Thomas took me to the hospital and there was all sorts of shit found in my system, all kinds of drugs I would rather die than do.  I was shaking and sweating, dehydrated and sick, I felt like I was dieing and wished it would be less painful.  I wanted to cry because I felt used, and I wanted to scream because I felt betrayed.  It goes to show you that you never know who your true friends are until something bad happens.

I didn’t even get hear Brand New.

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