My aunt and I needed to get out of dodge and got the random idea to go to a Seahawks game. It was a night game and we’re both drinkers, so we decided to book an Airbnb.
Now, if you’ve read any of my blog posts, you know I’m a little crazy (and I love booze!). Well, my aunt is another version of me, but more extreme and has been oppressed for the last 30 years with kids and a husband (all that responsible shit).
Let’s just say, we started taking shots as soon as we crossed the Seattle line.
After we got situated at the Airbnb, we headed out to prefunk at a bar about 2 blocks away from the stadium. Fireball!!!
And a couple more Fireball, just to be frugal n shit. Beers are like $18 there!
We get to the stadium and as soon as I hit the line, it begins…
Pointing at my large, black, boxy, bag hanging off my shoulder –
“Oh, you can’t take that in there!”
“Yeah, they don’t allow any bags that are not clear”
It goes on and on and on….
Amateurs.
If you are familiar with current NFL policy, you know its strict AF. Clear purses only. Max size of like 12”. No exceptions!
…Or is there?
About 4 years prior, right after I gave birth to my son, I won some Seahawks tickets from a former employer. I was still breast feeding at the time and subsequently found out, no one wants anything to do with pissing off a nursing mom or touching her equipment. They also have special rooms in the VIP section, just for pumping. They are clean, private, and in VIP!
I saved my pump for this very reason.
I went up to security, flipped the flap open, he peeked in and waved me on without a word.
Unbeknownst to him, I have multiple Ziplock bags filled with tequila, shoved in every crevice of that bag.
And no, I wasn’t currently nursing my 5 year old.
By the time we find our seats, my aunt and I are feeling good, to say the least. I make it through the first quarter (maybe) and decide I need a visit to VIP. I excuse myself and set off to find the nursing rooms so I can take shots.
I don’t know how long it took me, but it wasn’t quick.
When I got back, my aunt lost it and started snapping and cussing at me.
Note: I am not a confrontational person. However, I am also 100% unequivocally, not, NON-confrontational.
I instantly turned into Shaniqua and was like “Oh no you di’nt!!”. And walked out of the stadium. You can’t go back in after you leave.
About an hour later (as I’m taking more shots in a local bar), try and call my aunt but she doesn’t answer. I call my cousin. I honestly don’t remember what we talked about but then my phone died.
I have no fucking idea where our Airbnb is, and I’m wasted.
At some point around the time I realized this, I was stumbling to the bar bathroom and I felt someone grab me around the waste and pull me into the bathroom. The men’s bathroom. At the time I didn’t know or care, it’s only after recalling staring at a urinal the entire time the following was happening that I processed that part…
The next thing I remember is someone shoving shit up my nose. Like literally. White shit. Saying that just sounds stupid, I know. How could someone literally shove shit up your nose?? But when you’re inebriated to the point where your entire world is in slow motion, and you literally don’t comprehend what is happening until the next day, let me just say – it’s possible.
I remember pathetic attempts at trying to brush him away but he was so fucking fast and was not listening, or even looking at me. Just looking back to the door, then to his bag ‘o shit, and back to door as he’s stuffing my nose from photo memory. He was talking a lot but I have no idea what he was saying.
He grabbed me and somehow led me to a black town-car with tinted windows and said it was a cab to take me home. At the time, I had negative brain cells.
Between, the lack of giving AF (just wanting to go home and go to sleep), his physical force (which I had no hope against sober and especially drunk), and not being able to process shit in a timely manner, I was fucked.
I got in.
The first part of the car ride, I don’t remember.
I “woke up” in the back seat of the car, still driving to God-knows-where, and my pants off, laying across this dipshits lap.
I quickly sit-up, look around, and start putting my pants on. He, of course tries to stop me but eventually allows it.
I keep telling him and the driver that where I’m going is not that far and I need to go back.
It was then, that just enough of the alcohol had worn off for dread to take-over. I literally got a full-body-shiver I will never forget.
In a matter of about 7 seconds, the following thoughts are crashing through my drunkenness:
They are taking me somewhere and I cannot stop them.
The driver is in on it.
I don’t think he’s even an Uber.
I can’t let them know that I know.
Where the fuck are we!!??
I am going to die. They have done this before.
What are they going to do with me!?
Where is my purse!?
My phone!?
…fuck… my phones gone!
My pump – fuck my pump!
I remember asking multiple times to turn back or let me out… I don’t think they even responded…
What seemed like an eternity later, we arrived at an apartment complex. He started to pull me out of the car.
I am begging him to let me go. I beg the driver to please take me back. Both of them silent.
He starts dragging me up the stairs, to what I can only assume is an apartment from hell, and I see someone smoking a few stories up.
I raise my voice and let the panic take over – “Please let me go!!! Please! Please! I just want to go home!”.
The dude fucking says something, God bless his soul.
“ Dude, let her go!”
Dude continues to pull me in his direction, despite multiple please from dude.
Then, more neighbors come out and join. I swear to fucking God it was like a movie! There were like 8-35 people out on various balconies, shouting “let her go!”, until he fucking did.
At this point, I don’t know if it was a lack of logic or choices, but I got back in the black town car. He starts driving. And then starts asking for money….I did find my debit card and some lip gloss on the floor of the car but, I honestly didn’t have shit for money. I’m always broke.
I lied my way almost back to where he picked me up, and then he stopped at an atm. Not letting me exceed a 5’ radius from him, he follows me to the ATM.
Fuck.
I’m not too religious, but God stepped in on this one cause somehow I got $60 out. I honestly don’t know what he would have done if I didn’t get any money for him.
As soon as stepped out of the car and he drove away, I felt the weight of the world fall from me.
Then, I realized that I would have to sleep on the fucking curb and hitchhike home because I had no phone or money – and the weight came back, two-fold.
I started walking down the street. At this point it was about 2-3am, I had blue and green hair extensions dangling from the ends of my hair, and (I would later find out) my pants were inside out and backwards.
Within a couple minutes, I saw a cop and I ran towards him. I start blabbering random incoherent bits of my story to him, retardedly pleading for help and he goes, “wait, what is your name?”.
Me: Summer
Cop: Your aunt is on the phone with my partner as we speak.
I am not shitting you. I don’t know what I would have done if not, because she gave him the address and he gave me a ride back to the Airbnb.
FML. What a fucking night.
A Single White Female 
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