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August 11, 2022
So I was roofied by my (now former) coworker the other night. The worst part was that he had a mullet. No ā maybe itās worse that he plans to work at an elementary school, or that heāll probably get away with all this, or that heāll probably do it again, or that, god save his soul, he is a ginger with a mullet.
He spiked my water, which is ironic because weāre baristas. I didnāt think a coworker Iād just worked with all week would go ahead and ruin our relationship and his job like that (especially when heās about to be evicted), but I guess in a world where mullets are coming back into fashion, nothing is sacred.
As far as rapes go it was probably a 3/5 on the WTF scale. Could have been way worse, but still kinda uncomfy to be drugged into a stupor and feel my brain shutting down while being held hostage in an unfamiliar house. I never fully passed out, so he (and his friend, another nice and nerdy-seeming fellow but a monster nonetheless) didnāt get away with much. After his unanswered pleas to have me ācuddleā and āhugā and ālay down togetherā (a ploy to get my dazed self to pass completely out), I somehow miraculously sobered up and secured a ride home from my lovely friend Mr. Spock, who, I assure you, is extremely horrified by how illogical all of this is, and is doing everything in his power to help me.
Iām safe. My loved ones have been supportive. Thereās been a bit of thousand-yard-staring and some nightmares, and thereās probably going to be more of that. Having to cover his shift (he quit) was annoying, and now weāre short-staffed at the cafĆ©, but, whatever ā Iām just grateful my managers were on my side.
I know the world doesnāt really believe people who say theyāre raped; itās not my first rodeo. But to the world, Iāll say that if I got a box of chocolates and a āWow, youāre so strong and beautifulā every time I told someone I was raped, Iād want it tattooed on my forehead.
Anyway, Iām not ashamed of the rape because itās not my fault. Iām not ashamed that I was drugged because people shouldnāt drug me. Iām not ashamed that I wasnāt thinking straight because rohypnol makes you feel like youāve barely got one braincell and thatās why rapists use it. Someone elseās criminal behavior doesnāt define me.
I never asked for any of this at all; it makes absolutely no sense. Itās an unfunny situation, but I want to laugh about it anyway. This is probably not the healthiest coping mechanism, but itās what I have right now and itās free. Iāll grow out of it.
Just waiting for the day that our culture will finally grow out of mullets.
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