Roofie Colada

Honestly, I don't even know why I'm writing this post. There are at least 10 other people just off the top of my head that definitely have better recollections of the events of last weekend than I do. Oh, "Why's that?" you ask? Well last weekend was the much anticipated, giant, lesbian, pool party, during the course of which I was either drugged (I'm going with this theory to save face) or made a super successful attempt at recreating freshman year drinking (probably the more likely situation). Point being I made it about 3 hours into the day before I got sick and completely blacked out. I am clearly the best person to bring to a party...if you want to look sober.

Those first 3 hours were great- Stood by the bar the entire time (red flag number 1), got some shots purchased for me (red flag number 2), had some amazing drinks mixed by a friend of ours (red flag number 3), made friends with gay boys (first sign I am getting drunk), and slowly removed additional pieces of clothing until I was just in my bathing suit (when the shorts came off, someone probably should have handed me a water). Since everyone except me runs on lesbian time, The Cripple and I were the first ones to arrive of our group, which I think directly correlated to the quick succession of drinks going into my mouth since we were killing time waiting for our friends to get there. At one point I texted Irina, an hour after she said she would arrive, to ask her if she was almost there, and her response was, "What's the address?" Which made me need a drink.

When our friends finally did arrive, we moved over to a cabana, where after another drink or two I apparently forgot I was in public and PDAed my way through the next half hour or so. As a general rule I'm very non-PDA. So if I'm climbing all over the person I'm with that's probably a good sign I should be slowing down the alcohol intake (or increasing it? That could really go either way...). And then it happened. I was having a grand time, playing with a beach ball, dancing a bit, chatting with friends, when all of a sudden I felt awful. I sat down in a chair, and bam. Sick.

Bad Decision: Getting so excited for the party, that you speed drink 3 cocktails in 20 minutes.
Better Bad Decision: Having friends with a cabana so you can hide behind a wall of friendly homos while you crumple into a shell of a human.

While everyone else at the party was doing this:

Lesbians, vodka, pool floaties, YAY!



I was doing this:

It's like a where's waldo of horrors.

One minute it's 5pm and sunny daylight out and I'm sitting in a chair in the cabana being sick. The next minute it's 10pm and pitch black out and I'm sitting in my car in the parking lot being sick. Wait, what? How did I get to my car? How is it dark out? IT'S BEEN FIVE HOURS?! I legitimately lost 5 hours of time at this party as if no time had gone by for me at all. Is that a normal reaction to drinking? I think not. The thing of this is, is that I am basically a champion drinker. I'm a small girl, but I can put down way more than should be physically possible normally. I have never, EVER, reacted to alcohol like this in my life. Even when I got super sick from drinking in college, I did not black out. Hence, my theory of being drugged.

I started running through the possibilities:
I had my drink on the bar, and on some tables...I brought my drink to the bathroom...Did I bring it IN the bathroom? Ew, no. I probably left it on a table outside. Idiot. ...I also had, like, at least 3 of my friends retrieve me drinks from the bar....there is at least a 75% chance that someone here wants to drug one of my friends. No, 85% chance. Definitely 85%.

In the end I don't know what happened. Maybe I just drank too much too fast without enough food and the heat of the day got to me. Day drinking always has been my nemesis. Or maybe I did get drugged. I'd like to prefer I got drugged so I don't feel like as big of a douche for being that drunk girl. But Irina assured me that I was at least a non-obnoxious drunk girl. Apparently I just sat there quietly being sick. How considerate of me. I do remember at the end of the night, when I had regained awareness of my surroundings, I was placed on a curb next to some other wasted girl. My friend Kara was asking her, "Honey, where is your shoe? Where do you think you lost your shoe? Was it over here?" And the girl is swaying back and forth and looking at her foot like, "I don't have a shoe on?" Even in my drugged/drunk state I knew I didn't want to be that girl, so I stood up to look more sober. Totally worked. ...Right?

Some acknowledgements:

• The Cripple:  You let me faceplant in your lap for 5 hours and fed me bread like a bird. You never got mad or yelled at me for ruining your time. Best girlfriend ever. I owe you 5 hours of faceplant.
• Kara:  You handed me a bucket when I was being sick, which is so much classier than losing it on the ground. That's the last thing I remember of the daylight time. I also woke up the next day with 5-7 bobby pins in my hair. Leave it to a hairstylist to be all "SAVE THE HAIR!" when a girl's getting sick. Solid.
• Brie:  Thank god there's another lesbian who knows how to drive stick. If it wasn't for you I'd probably still be in the parking lot.
• Irina:  It just seems fitting that you are around for scenarios like this. You're like the first responder of "Help, Ashly's Wasted" calls. One of my most vivid memories is of the mustard stain on your shirt from the gas station hot dog. I'd like to think you arranged that for comedic relief.

Life Lesson: Get your own drinks, because someone at the party probably wants to drug your friends.

Where am I?

-LSLP, Ash.

To my younger readers who have just headed off to college. This is written all in good fun, but roofies/being drugged is no joke. Seriously get your own drinks. And watch them like a fucking hawk.