Since everybody around me is at least waist-deep in this (some of us are neck-deep in it), I'm coming here to rant and rave.
You ever notice how the spring semester is always the worst? For some reason, it is so much harder than the fall. One year, it was my bonehead move of taking 19 hours. Last year, it was a car accident. This year, it's all kinds of fun stuff.
So, last week, Thursday night, it was, a good friend of mine gets popped for public intox. She's a sweet, cute little girl I dated briefly about a year ago. She's also dumb as a post, and doesn't make the best decisions regarding men. Obviously, since she's not dating me
We had her pretty well straightened out as of about a year ago. She was going to class, doing her homework, going to bed early, and generally conducting herself as a lady. Then she met this dude. He had other plans. I have heard tales of him taking her to strip joints. That's the kind of fellow he is. Well, they got drunk thursday night. Drunk, and angry. Angry, and loud. In front of her apartment here on campus. Her roommate called me when this started, but my spidey-sense told me not to answer the phone. I'm glad I didn't. The neighbors called it in as a domestic, and it starts raining police. They hauled him off, in cuffs, and towed his car, and they pitched her in the tank. Her roommate asked me to go get her out of jail the next morning. It was odd that she hadn't shown up yet, since detox is just an overnight sort of thing, and it was 1100. She showed up about 30 minutes later. BF's sister had dropped her off. So, now she's failing two of her dance classes (you don't miss dance classes unless you're near death), is behind enough on her rent that she's getting "pay up or we kick you out" notices, and that whole arrest thing.
So, Dionysusigma, Q-dog (ya'll don't know Q-dog) and I decide to go out to dinner Friday night to cool off a bit. We ended up trapped in the middle of the hot-rod association cruising thing. It was actually really cool. We all like cars. That, and dinner was good. There's this Chinese joint we like, and it always has good food. Then we went to see a movie. We saw Sin City. Good flick if you haven't seen it.
Saturday was pretty good, too. It was Dionysusigma's 21st, so we went to the gun shop and got a pistol for him. I also saw a K31 and couldn't resist. Then it was off to the range with a few other friends and Dionysusigma's dad. We burned off a few thousand rounds, and generally had a great time. My roommate hadn't so much as touched a gun in more than a decade, so we got to enjoy that giddy, giggling expression of "Hey, this is COOL," when he started shooting. After the range, we had dinner, and then Dionysusigma, his brother, and I hit Bricktown. We only stopped at one place, but it was a nice night, and we sat out on the back patio drinking scotch and swapping stories. Just so you know, all three of us were smoking. Wouldn't want to leave out the 'T'.
Sunday was nothing special. I slept late and did some homework.
Monday, however, was a real rodeo. I get a phone call at about 2145 from a friend across the street. We'll call him B-man. Roommate and I went over there, and another friend, we'll call her "girl" is huddled up on the couch. B-man tells us that somebody jumped her in a parking lot and tried to rape her. The alarm bells were going off before he finished his sentence. I always thought people in her situation wouldn't want to be surrounded by us icky boys right after that. So I talk to her. She says she was visiting a friend, walked out to her truck to leave, and somebody tackled her, climbed up on her, she could feel his erection, etc. She kicked, screamed, and got away to her truck. Problem was, I didn't find a mark on her. Aside from the collar of her t-shirt being torn at the back (which isn't hard to fake), there was absolutely no evidence that she'd wrestled with a rapist in a parking lot. So we took her home. She seemed awfully talkative for a recent attempted rape victim. It was also strange that this just *happened* to occur the same day that she and I had "the talk" about how I don't want to date her. Hmm...
Yesterday, she was still awfully talkative. She said that her anonymous assailant "knows who she is" because he sent her an email. "OH Goody!" I'm thinking. "Now I can find the bastard!" Except that she deleted it. WHOOPS! The bells are going off again! So I hoof it to work, and chat with our email administrator. He checked the retention log. Nothing. We didn't even bother trying a recovery on her mailbox (that requires a warrant or the like anyway). So roommate and I decide that this is all a big steaming load of rich creamery butter, so we call B-man over to discuss. He was noticing more than a few odd things as well. So I look up this apartment complex where it happened, and we take a little road trip to investigate the "scene." Did I mention that she refused to call the police? Even after this ethereal email! This is all the "investigation" that's going to happen. Or needs to, for that matter.
What we found was a teensy little parking lot that's laid out something like an obstacle course. How, exactly, a freaked-out 20 year old, in a light truck, who can't back the bloody thing down a driveway (seriously. B-man had to back her truck down a straight driveway once) is going to back out of a space, drive through this automotive quigley course, all with a psycho stalker rapist right behind her... As our favorite professor is so fond of saying, "'Tis a puzzlement." I also recalled her saying, both to me personally, and in her blog about this incident (yes, she wrote an entry about it. the NEXT DAY) that it was real dark. Now I'm no physicist, I barely passed the optics section of physical science, but this place was lit up like a runway. Sodium lights about every ten feet, mercury lights up on the building, cars zooming by on 39th street. This place could've passed for about noon, and it was about 2100 when we checked it out.
If I'm totally missing something on this one, would somebody please point it out to me? I really hate to think that she concocted all of this, but I can't think of any real evidence that this happened. Maybe I'm oblivious.
So, to top it all off, I wake up this morning with what feels like an extra vertebrae in my neck. Something is jammed in there good. The ibupropfen is taking the swelling down a bit, but it's kinda hard to turn my head, and it's pretty painful. I'll survive, and I'll be fine tomorrow, but maaaaaan is this annoying.
*sigh*
I can't wait for summer vacation.
