Would Good Intention Hold Up In Court?

Last night Emily and I went out to Sixth Street. It's a rare occasion when we actually go to Sixth Street anymore. We usually go to Fourth, Fifth or just other random bars that aren't downtown. But we were meeting up with the Virginians and they exclusively go out on Sixth street. It's not that we hate Sixth, its just that its usually crowded and with a younger wilder crowd. We like more of the laid back, easier to hear each other types of bars. But, we bit our tongues and met up with them on Sixth. That was our first mistake.
It began with myself agreeing to play a simple game of credit card roulette with one of the Virginians, Colin (no, not the former interest). I've never played credit card roulette, and I always said I would never do it. But, it was just two of us, and I was bar hopping with a check card and most places have a minimum I can't reach on my own before leaving for the next bar. Odds are that we'd come out paying the same if we took turns as we would if we were playing credit card roulette, right? I mean, it is 50-50 chances. Haha!

Then, Colin says at the first bar we should Bear Fight. Huh, never heard of it. I honestly asked him if it entailed some sort-of physical strength. See I had this whole vision in my head of us ending up on the ground rolling around (because that's how bears fight...in strange bear world maybe). He said it was nothing like that, but that since I hadn't done it before, I needed to try.

But Colin went to the bartender and ordered something I couldn't hear. Colin then took my check card, throws it and his card in the hat (that we borrowed from a nice gentleman waiting in line for the bar) and he let the bartender pull one out. I was the lucky winner, thank you very much.

Oh, that's not a good thing, damn.

Then he turns to me and says that we have to race each other while we each drink a Jager Bomb AND an Irish Car Bomb. Once I realized there was no real consequence for losing such race, I didn't panic as much as I had originally. We race, he wins, but I came in a close second. I was actually really impressed at how well I did. I am usually no good at drinking things fast. Those drinks are not that bad though, or they weren't last night, anyways.

But my next move was to turn to the bartender and order a water. Which I continued to drink for the rest of the night. So much for the chance at winning the next round of Credit Card Roulette (which I've decided I am going to retire from ever playing that "FUN" little game again, and while I'm at it, probably retire the bear fighting too).

When the bars closed, we said good-bye to everyone and parted ways. Somehow, Colin had gotten lost from the rest of the group. We knew the rest of his group got a cab ride home. So we decided to check on him with a text asking if he needed a ride home. Boy, if we'd only known what a terrible series of events that would unfold, we would've steered clear and headed straight home. But things happen the way they do for a reason. Not always for anything good. But it had its reasons (like allowing me to blog about this ridiculous night).

So he called us back and said he did need a ride and that he had a girl with him that was pretty drunk. My first thought was, well get a cab (or a room), but don't call two girls to take you and your girl home! But we decided to be nice and help him out anyways.

We pulled up to the meeting place and the first thing I saw was him literally carrying her in his arms to the car. She was already passed out. Okay, a little more reasonable about not getting a cab, she was not a hook up and did look like she needed to get home immediately. I thought, he must know this girl, saw how drunk she was, and decided to take care of her.

Once they were in the car we started asking him questions. Simple questions like; who is this girl, what's her name, where did she come from, and why is she with you? He had no answers for us except that he found her on a ghetto side street off Sixth, crying and asked him to help her.

Okay. Not the ideal situation, but we can work with this. So we asked, where is she needing to go? His response, I don't know.

Okay. Far from the ideal situation.

We tried several times to wake this chick up. But she was not budging. During this time I got a good look at her and I realized she appeared to be in her forties! Colin didn't believe this, maybe it was still the Bear Fight in me, but she looked to be forty!

So what is your recommendation at this point Colin, was our next question. The only thing he could come up with was take her back to his apartment and when she woke up he'd get her where she needed to go.

With lack of a better plan, that is exactly what we did.

I did manage to get some sort-of answer to two questions as we walked her in (and before she passed out again). Her name was Laura and she was MARRIED with CHILDREN. And now she is trashed and on some strangers couch. Seems to all fit.

Once we got her to his apartment and on the couch we all sat down at his table. That is when the true gravity of the situation set in. There is a drunk chick that we don't know on his couch!

(I didn't even know my computer had this capability, I just wanted to black our her face, but this works too. It is one of the special editing features that was called, "coloring book." So if you were needing a new coloring page for the kiddo's, here you go.)
Then we started thinking (a little late, I know). If you have intercourse with someone without their consent, it is considered rape. So using that knowledge, if you take someone to a new location without their consent, isn't that KIDNAPPING?!?!

WHAT THE HELL??? We just kidnapped someone from Sixth Street! One moment you are partying and bear fighting, the next you are kidnapping forty-year-old women (which after we got her inside Colin admitted she did look to be forty)? Clearly, step one should not EVER lead to step two! That's when we started freaking out to Colin, what the hell did he do?

He gave an incredibly sad sappy story about how pathetic the woman looked, how a group of guys was picking on her before he walked up. Okay, so Colin was TRYING to do the right thing. He had all the best intentions, but does that really matter? The bottom line is that eventually this chick is going to wake up, probably freak out, and possibly charge us with kidnapping! How likely is it that Colin's sad sappy story will hold up in court of law? Because THAT was the question we now had to worry about!

We eventually ventured over to the other Virginians apartment, where they were playing flip cup (I honestly feel like entering the word surprise-surprise is no longer even needed), and let them in on the little dilemma we were now faced with. Our hope was to get some insightful advice as to what to do now. They didn't have any better words of advice than, "don't pick up drunk girls on Sixth Street!" Oh, thanks. We'll have to clearly try that one next time, BUT WHAT ABOUT THIS TIME???

So we went back to Colin's apartment where we tried to come up with the best plan with the least possible negative results. We sat at his table for a long time and thought of all the different things that this lady would do when she woke up. This involved a lot of our time getting derailed onto different, non-useful topics. Then we'd realize we had a random girl sleeping on the couch and would all just look at her.


Our final plan ended up being this. We would leave a note explaining everything to her. Emily and I would stay over (in his bed and he'd be kicked to the extra room with a blow up mattress) so there'd be more than just some (seemingly) creepy guy there. We'd leave my cell phone out for her (oh yeah, plot thickens. She had no purse, cell phone, money, nothing). That way should could call whomever to come pick her up.

So then came writing the note. What do you say that DOESN'T sound weird in this situation? The answer is NOTHING. There is nothing you can write down on a piece of paper that is going to prevent this poor woman from thinking she's been kidnapped! We couldn't help but feel like we were writing a ransom note. We debated and wrote down several different drafts before we came up with something we could agree on:

Hey Laura,

We took you home last night after you asked us for help on Sixth street. We didn't know what else to do but take you here. If you know someones number to call, here is a cell phone (please don't take it). Two girls are in the bedroom to your right, if you need anything. We hope you get home safe (and possibly let us know you are okay).

Jenny Jones


We set the note on the table, along with my cell phone, a bottle of water and a plastic bag (in case she needed to throw up).

After a few hours went by, which we spent talking and watching her as if she was an exhibit in the zoo, I finally got restless and came up with the plan to wake her up.

They all thought it was a good idea but didn't want to be the one doing it. So I decided I would do it. They all watched from behind the corner as I began to shake this women and wake her up. She'd turn and mutter something illegible then fall back asleep. Finally after doing this over and over, she understood and woke up.

Once she was truly awake I started to realize how much I didn't want to be the one talking to her after all. Amazingly, she didn't look to be frightened, just shocked and confused. One of the first things she said was, "my kids are with the babysitter!" Dang, that girl is getting some overtime (if this chick ever finds her purse). Could you imagine being the babysitter and the mom never coming home that evening? What would you do or think?

Anyways, I kept stressing that she could use my phone. So she called her own cell number first. It was turned off. Of course, I'm thinking to myself it sounds like her phone got stolen (but I'm not going to tell her that, and that was probably in her purse. So that's probably gone too). Then we ask about her husband, she said he was out of town. We suggested she call him. All she said to that was, "no, I'm not going to do that." That seems a bit strange, but oh well.

We threw out so many suggestions of people to call or what else we could do, but nothing was working. We even tried to look up phone numbers for her. Nothing.

She then asked us if we could take her home. We said we were all too drunk to drive but we suggested a cab. She reminded us that she had no money. One of the guys immediately said he'd pay her cab ride home, no problem. Then we asked where she lived anyways.

Her response: East Sixth Street. Oh, the look of disappointment on our faces was priceless. So you mean when Colin found you, you were already close to home? And yet we took her somewhere farther away. That figures.

After several awkward minutes waiting for a cab, she was off. I am hoping that is the last we see or hear from her. It sure would be weird to run into her on the streets!

We discussed it later, and the next time there is a stranger too drunk on the streets to take care of themselves we are just going to grab a police officer. They would probably take her to jail or the hospital, but at least we wouldn't potentially be in danger of a crime. Or out $15 for a cab ride home. Or have stayed up until 6:30 am taking care of such a situation. Next time (and I really hope there isn't a next time, come on people, don't you do some sort-of buddy system when you are at the bar? I don't know how many times we asked each other where her friends were.) we'll just let the drunk person suffer the consequences.

Oh the crazy's on Sixth Street......