Bethany stumbled out of the bar just in time to vomit on the sidewalk. Her neck felt weak and incapable of supporting her head. She looked up, trying her hardest not to close her eyes. A disinterested woman flicked the cherry of her cigarette into the adjacent gutter in utter defiance of petty concerns like lung cancer and the flammability of the various debris that had collected there since the last rainfall. The woman looked down at her, apparently contemplating what to do about the situation in front of her, eventually choosing to walk away rather than risk getting vomit on her new pair of Louboutins.
Bethany’s memories of the last few hours started to fade as she desperately held onto them, like a handful of balloons slipping out of her fingers and floating off into the sky. She could barely remember where she’d been and how she had gotten here, crouched on the sidewalk and collecting gravel on her hands. The night had started at someone’s apartment… in Williamsburg? Maybe? She was doing Fireball shots with a few friends in celebration of someone’s birthday. Someone was crushing a pill into a powder with a credit card, and a group of people were huddled around the coffee table taking turns with a metal coke straw. What were they crushing up? How much did she do? How did she get to the bar and who brought her? Was she talking to anyone? Did she leave her drink somewhere? She couldn’t remember. Her eyes began to close as her arms collapsed under her, holding onto her last remaining moments of consciousness for dear life.
Two guys walked up to her and noticed her slouched over on the ground. One began picking her up by her shoulders. A woman nearby broke away from her friends and came running up. “HEY! Do you know that girl? Where are you taking her?” The men paused. One spoke. “She’s my sister. We’re going to take her home and get her cleaned up.”
“Yeah? What’s her name?” The man paused. “Her name is uh, Sarah.” Bethany lifted up her head and spoke in slurred speech. “I’m… Besssth” The man dropped her and ran, leaving his friend behind to answer to one very angry bouncer and two cops rounding the corner.
What assholes....it both frightens me and annoys me to know there are people like this out there, especially after reading in the comments this is something you actually lived through. How could you take advantage of someone in that state? How low you would have to be...
I don't know what the purpose was, if there was one, but it did get my blood boiling, so good job! <3
For some reason I am imaging that this is a scene you witnessed, or that you were the moral brave lady.
Nice story.
You got it! Years ago I was at a bar and I spotted two men picking up a woman who was half passed out on the sidewalk and I ran outside. One man claimed to be her brother but didn’t know her name. I started screaming to everyone around that they were rapists and they booked it. I called the last number in her phone and waited for her friend to pick her up and take her home. One of my better moments actually. Sucks that they got away but at least she didn’t end up in a nightmare.
Wow, that is horrendous, but amazing of you. I hear stories like this, but I've never witnessed people acting so horribly. I guess I've been lucky in that regard thus far.
It's a lot more common than you'd think, and people just mind their own business when they shouldn't. Some people have this attitude like women are responsible for whatever happens to them if they choose to get drunk. But sometimes they're not just drunk and they didn't voluntarily get that way because someone put something in their drink, or maybe they were taking medication that interfered with their alcohol absorption, or really whatever. (Not that it should even matter; people should be able to get drunk and it doesn't mean anyone is allowed to hurt them... I'm just saying that the circumstances could be more deadly than simply drinking too much.)
I hate that bouncers just throw people out on the street if they're too drunk or passed out and don't bother to call an ambulance or someone in their phone to come get them (depending on the circumstance). If bars are liable for underage people drinking then then should also be liable for negligently allowing people to be in a situation where they could get seriously hurt when they're in a position to at least attempt to intervene. It's like, the bouncers are standing outside anyway, surely they can keep an eye out and make sure someone gets a safe ride home. I think this especially applies to women but it should also apply to men.
I didn't realize people just got tossed on the street like that. Maybe a big city thing. I know a bartender in my town that regularly makes calls for folks that are too far gone. I suppose that wouldn't happen in big clubs - another reason not to go, in my opinion. But I'm a home-body so that's easy for me to say. :)
Yes, certainly it shouldn't matter the circumstances. Somebody in that position may keel over from alcohol poisoning, and certainly deserves to be treated humanly.
That's a good bartender then. Glad to hear there are people like that. I've only seen bartenders do it a couple of times here. :/
I loved your analogies in this, and from reading below, I'm glad you were there to save her from that.
vivid, haunting, oddly sublime read. thanks!
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Thank you so much!!
I've been that person, sadly more than once. I had a solid 5 years of poor choices and bad situations. Thank you for your efforts to help.
I'm sorry to hear that. :( We've all been there at least once or twice. But no matter what poor choices or bad situations you end up in, nobody deserves to be hurt, harassed, or taken advantage of in any way. Everyone is entitled to make their own choices about what to do with their bodies--even self destructive things--as long as they're not hurting anyone else. Full stop.
Also, I find it suspicious that nobody ever seems to think it's any of their concern when young college-aged men get blackout drunk (boys will be boys!), but they love policing young women who drink too much and calling them a "hot mess" or whatever.
Oh, SO TRUE. I remember thinking many times in my teens/early 20's that I must have a stamp on my forehead that attracted the abusive/entitled types. I don't know, maybe that's the reason that as I grew older, I became 'intimidating' to people because I had to develop a harder shell to keep the assholes out.
Thank you for bringing attention to this. We all need to step in and intervene for our siusters. Follow that intuition!!