The Drivel Thread

Good because some of that stuff you write is really inappropriate. I don't like the idea that young people coming here to have fun and talk about Morrissey have to be exposed to that sordidness
That's very proper rifke.
 
Is this another S*it thread, or simply renamed Drivel instead of S*it? Losing track...
 
The shit thread isn't for prudes. The drivel one is ostensibly prude friendly.
 
Do you need an advisory/cautionary statement to reflect that in the thread header...plus a recommended reader age limit?
I've just put a tag on the shit thread, saying that if you're a prude go to another thread.
 
I should put a tag that says if you're a prude go to the 'thinking' thread.
 
Spiked Orange Juice

One night, at the Carousel strip club in Oshawa, Ontario, someone spiked my drink. I was in my motel room, which was in the same building as the club, and I was asleep in bed. I was awoken by the sound of the doorknob being fiddled with.

That wasn't what most alarmed me though. What did frighten me more than someone trying to get into my room, was that I found myself paralyzed. I couldn't even open my eyes, though I was aware, sober, and could feel my heart racing. I told myself to just let go, and accept whatever was about to happen, so that my heart would calm down. My greatest fear became having a heart attack from fright.

So I did calm down, and fell back to sleep, only to be woken again by the rattling of the back doorknob leading to the parking lot. Again I could not move a muscle, and again I told myself to accept fate, to calm my heart. I fell back to sleep.

The next time I woke, I could move, immediately seized the phone, called my boyfriend in Montreal, and sobbed. I vaguely remember reading in the local news that a stripper had been taken from the Carousel, gang raped and killed in the woods. But what happened to me is crystal clear. I never went to the police. It never even occurred to me at the time. I don't remember what I did, the following morning. High tailed it back to Montreal probably. Did I imagine the newspaper article about the murder? I didn't imagine my drink having been spiked.

I don't remember if something I witnessed fit the timeline of the spiking, but it was a man in the club while it was flooded with men, and he passed my fellow stripper, and said to her "But I don't love YOU!", spitefully. Was she killed? Was he one of the killers? I didn't even know her name. I'm going to Google about that newspaper article I think I read.
 
Tags
anxiety bloody awful poetry testing the waters trying to feel good in your own skin trying to make friends wanting to alleviate anxiety wanting to feel safe to be honest wanting to have integrity
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