Okay. Drama.

So I saw my wife today. Yay. We did our usual dissolute youth thing, wandering around smoking and dancing and generally unemployed/unemployable. Then we went to a friend's house, and of course, this being a small town, and not having seen him in a while, the topic of THAT party came up. Was all laughs until we came to the group conclusion that somebody spiked my drink. 

You see, normal drinking goes like this: Sober-tipsy-laughing-drunk-paraletic-unconscious. 

That night went: Sober-tipsy-laughing-solid three hours of utter memory blank-return of memory-drunk

I am not the kind of person who would make up some spiked-drink bullshit to try and excuse my bad behaviour. I would prefer my bad behaviour to be all my own work. I don't need an excuse. 

It is also generally pointless to spike my drink, given the high cost of drugs, and the fact that I already have a drink means the liklihood of my saying no is really not that high anyway. Failing that, just give me the drugs, and then I'll be both grateful and even less likely to say no. The secrecy is really unecessary. 

Anyway, the main act of the drama. A couple of guys had told me that it was Gary who did it. I don't know how they know this, and its not like I'm in any position to disagree. They might actually remember something. So we have an anger about this, because Gary is apparently not such a nice guy anyway. Later, my wife talks to Gary. He didn't do it, and is upset about this stain on his reputation, but he does know who it really was. Somebody I have never heard of. 

I don't even know if any of this stuff happened. Everybody is going mad around me, slinging rumours and spinning stories, as I sit in the middle, serene in the knowledge that I managed to do bad.