I don't recall where I met him. Keys bar? I mostly remember him coming up to me. I might recall him asking me if I would like to go for a ride on his motorcycle.
I vaguely remember that I agreed and sometime in the next week, we went for a ride. He was nice enough. I had fun. I was attracted. At the end of the ride he asked me if I would like to spend Saturday at the lake. He lived in a small cottage at Gilletts Lake. Otney St. I think. Who wouldn't want to spend a day at the lake?
I arrived with two bottles of Piesporter wine. That was my normal limit. I typically don't drink any more than that but if I only had one bottle (4 glasses), then I might find myself wanting a little more. Don't want to run out. He offered to cook lunch. I uncorked the first one and poured myself a glass. He was very nice and accommodating. We went out to the beach and sat to talk for a bit in the sun. One of his neighbors waved and said hi and asked him if he could come down to look at her boat lift. It was not working right and she wondered if he could see what it was doing wrong. We wandered down there and I sat on the dock talking to her. We got along well. Time went by and my glass was empty. He was so nice he offered to let us keep talking and get me a refill. I handed him my glass and he went back to his cottage.
He returned a bit later with my glass filled with more wine. A few minutes later another neighbor came down the road and asked if we would like to see his house. The renovation was done. They did a very nice job. We got the whole tour. I sipped on my wine and chatted in the front yard, down the way from his cottage. We wandered back. We were getting hungry. We got to his yard and he fired up the grill. That is about when it started getting fuzzy.
He was cooking burgers. Since we were outside and I could no longer stand or sit up, I chose to lay down in the shade of the picnic table by the grill. I was hungry. He got on the phone and called up some next door neighbors and invited them to come down and have a burger. Some of them brought passing dishes. Mind you it is VERY out of character for me to lay down in the shade of the picnic table and two glasses of wine do not affect me. At all. I am very talkative and social. I could not get up. I remember focusing on the waves on the lake. I could see all the legs of whoever came to eat at the picnic table. I could hear them talking. No one really seemed concerned that I was laying on the ground and could not get up, if I tried. I was not sleeping. I could not really talk either.
After he cleaned up and they all went home he asked me if I would like to go in and lay down. He said I must be really tired to not join them in eating burgers. Fucker!! I still had no clue what happened. I felt kinda like a sloth for not being able to get up. I followed him into his bedroom. I flopped on the bed like a wet rag doll. I did not move for an hour or so. I might have fallen asleep there. Couldn't help it. I do recall him trying to approach me sexually. In my opinion it wasn't the time to ask me to make out. Obviously something wasn't right. Not sure what but I am going to say NO and fall back asleep. I recall some sort of struggle. Like get the fuck off me.
A couple hours later I managed to wake up. I wandered out of his room to sit in the first thing I could find in the same room as him. A living room chair, I think. I just sat there. Massive headache. I never have headaches, unless I have the flu or something. An unbearable headache. I wanted out of there but was not sure I could or should drive. He was watching the Simpson's Marathon on TV. That pretty much pissed me off. Not only do I hate all cartoons, the Simpsons are just stupid. I see no redeeming quality to that show. I think I sat through three of them. Maybe 5. I really could not get up. It was also very awkward there with him. I told him I had a massive headache, like my head had been hit with a brick. He called one of the gals down the street, that brought a pharmacy in a purse. She opened one bottle of pills and gave me a couple. "Here, take these and you will feel better." I took them. I still had no clue what happened to me. I just wanted the headache gone. Looking back.....how did she know what the antidote was? I think she knew what caused it.
I had enough of the Simpsons, the day and him. I got up to find my way home. I made it.
I could not take a drink of anything with alcohol in it for about a week. It make me feel instantly like puking.
I am not sure what happened to me that day. Later when I put it all together that he filled my glass, it did not seem abnormal to him that I laid under the picnic table, that he tried to have sex with me while I slept, that he knew what would fix my headache and that something was messed up with my system that I could not drink for a week. I am pretty sure I was drugged.
He used to be a cook at the prison and later got a job at the Greystone Tavern cooking. He worked there for a few years. I don't recall his name. I would see him working there. He kept trying to come up to me to say hi. I really had nothing to say to him. Seems like I finally told him off to get rid of him, not sure.
His neighbor that brought me the remedy to my headache was seen next door to me, a couple years later, buying drugs from the dealer that lived there.
