Gibber of former Gibber Jabberin’ fame (you can see where she *used* to blog here) commented on my post Carried Away that she had a scary alcohol story. Since you can see that her blog is now defunct, I asked her to do a guest post. Please feel free to tell you how much you miss her and beg her to return to blogging. Maybe she’ll listen to you good people because she sure as hell won’t listen to me…
It was a Saturday night and the girls had all gathered to get ready for our night out on the town. There was excitement in the air. We were doing what girls do before they go out for a night on the town. Curling irons flipped on, make up all over the bathroom counter. Our clothes were spread out on the bed so we could all decide what looked best on us.
British accents were all over the place. You see, I was one of only 2 Canadians amongst a group of British nannies that had come over to Canada to work. I really didn’t hear their accents anymore since I spent a lot of time with them. I may have even had a bit of one myself.
This Saturday night while it seems at first glance like any other Saturday night on the town, it wasn’t. We knew it wasn’t, but we didn’t know just how different it would turn out.
We were all in our 20’s so it took us a while to get ready. I don’t know why it mattered so much since bars are dark anyway, but it did. We all hopped into a car where my Canadian friend’s boyfriend sat behind the steering wheel. The only guy with us. Poor guy!
We hit the road, the road to Buffalo, New York. We were crossing the border from Ontario to party.
I don’t remember how long the drive was, but eventually we arrived with no glitches at our bar of choice. We parked and headed in to dance our crazy butts off!
Now there’s something you should know about me. I was 19. I hadn’t yet done any drinking. I just didn’t. In Canada, I was of age to do so. In the US you had to be 21.
So I danced, and danced. I like dancing if you haven’t figured that out already. Could you guess, that doing all that dancing might lead one to get thirsty? I’ll bet you could.
Drinks were 2 for 1. Someone offered me one of their drinks. It was a long island ice tea. I thought it was only iced tea since we were all under age. It was a huge drink, and I downed it because of the aforementioned thirst. It was loaded with whatever alcohol they add to long island ice teas.
Guess what I did next?
I danced and I danced some more, until the end of the night was upon us.
Our gang regrouped and we headed outside in the cold crisp air. That’s when that long island ice tea hit me, and hit me hard. I was so drunk I could hardly stand up. Well I really couldn’t. I think a couple of my friends were holding me up.
Just outside the bar was a hot dog stand. The only guy with us decided he was hungry. How perfect since there was a hotdog stand right there. He bought his hot dog turned around and a stranger out of nowhere said to him and I quote, “Give me your hotdog.” He and we were all a little stunned. He said, “What?” The guy didn’t ask again he just punched our friend hard in the face twice and I if I remember correctly took his hotdog.
Our friend’s girlfriend jumped in front of her boyfriend to confront the attacker. Probably not the smartest thing to do, but you never know how you’re going to react when in a serious situation, and you have shock and adrenaline running through your system.
I’ll get back to my friend in a minute. Here’s where I need to tell you where I was at. I was so drunk I was laughing my head off. I knew the situation was serious but I wasn’t able to get serious because as I mentioned earlier, I hadn’t drank before. The alcohol possessed me. My friends were trying to get me to shut up and act “normal.” I could only keep laughing. I still couldn’t stand on my own. Part of me now, is glad I was drunk. Not the part that caused me to make the situation more dangerous than it was, but the part of me that would have been terrified had I been sober.
Okay back to the girlfriend. I left her standing in front of her boyfriend confronting the attacker. The attacker was gearing up to beat her up. He was ready to throw a punch. It was crazy scary. All of a sudden the attacker and his gang turned around and ran away. I was told that a police car had driven up.
You can bet we high tailed it to our car and got on the road out of there. Our friend was hurting but okay. He drove home. The others were just in pure shock and fear.
I was still drunk.
We were very lucky. As bad as the whole situation was, if that cop hadn’t of come it would have been much worse. We likely would have been killed. I know this because we found out a week later, that 4 girls were killed in that same area by some similar appearing men that matched the description of our attacker and his friends that left notes on their bodies saying, “Just because you’re British.”
I won’t say I never made any other stupid choices over the years after that, but I will say I never again crossed the border to party.