You know when someone says, "Hey, let’s go out for a drink," and then you do (because you don’t go out very often), and you’re dancing because the DJ is on fire ("…I love this sonnnnnnnng!…"), and all the people that you haven’t seen in a while tell you how good you look and your ego is all puffy and throbbing and you feel all warm and gooey like after Thanksgiving dinner? Then things get a little blurry and the next thing you know, you’re waking up feeling like you’ve OD’d on anti-anxiety pills (the blue and white ones, not the orange ones…the ones you REALLY shouldn’t drink with) and you realize that you can’t move your arms. And you can’t see. You try to wrench your arms free but you can’t, as they’re tied behind your back and your arms are starting to cramp which woke you up in the first place. The blindfold that has been covering your eyes is pulled from your face and you’re now staring into a bare lightbulb in an otherwise dark, smoke-filled room that has a peculiar metallic odor. You can’t make out the backlit faces of the guys standing in front of you and a big crazed dog won’t stop barking and pulling at its chain in your direction. You feel the cord roughly being cut from your wrists as you wiggle your arms free, the much needed blood rushing all the way through to your fingertips. All the guys start to walk out of the room, except for one. He leans in close to whisper in your ear: "We made a mistake. Now get lost."
Never happened to you? Me neither.
