going out by yourself

[Orisha]

One of the things I used to love about going out by myself was that I controlled the whole night, but I got hit on like mad crazy, and don't miss that part one bit. I have a playmate now, and lucky for me we usually agree on our activities, however...now that I have someone to love, it's harder to get all the benefits of being a single girl in the club scene. I don't mind, because I get lucky every night (and isn't that what we go out for anyway? hee hee)

[jerzeyangel]

Originally posted by letemknow00

i just did it tonite, kinda...my boys left early cos they thought the party was wack..but it was only 1am ...so i ended up clubbing by myself....felt weird, but no regrets..needed to get loose after 5 days of hard work

thats another thing.....if i did go wit ppl, i'd alwayz make them leave me there cuz they'd be leaving early, i hate that!

[siceone]

Originally posted by t0nythelover

i only go out by myself, most of my friends dont like clubbing

I'll go out with you big boy

[murrrr]

i only been out on my own once and met my friends @ the club, i always go out w/ my friends together and have a gr8 time...maybe is diff for guys but i feel diff if i go to a party or club on my own

[nyckitty69]

i always go by myself by necessity, not by choice. I like to come and go at my own time and not wait on others. I also don't want to deal with ppl who drink in my car. Sometimes it's lonely going by myself and walking thru the streets to the club but such is life.

it's strange, when I tell guys I came by myself, they don't understand, they keep asking "Why?".

Originally posted by xxrachael1xx

does any one else here go out to a partie by yourself? if you know the music will be good and just want to have a good time, but have no one to go with? (of course ull know people there tho!)

[barvybe]

i go out on my own all the time...sometimes there are people there i know, sometimes not. basically if i either feeling like staying up and blowing some steam dancing or there's someone i want to hear i just go.

i've been going out for a long time...at some points none of my friends were into it and i just made lots of new friends out (like any of you who know me lol). more recently most of my club buddies and my gf are tranceheads. i also love techno and breaks so i often just hit those up alone. and i almost always stay later than anyone who i went with anyway. sometimes i'll wander around and talk to people, sometimes i'll just dance / listen - whatever i'm in the mood for.

its really not a big deal. yeah, you can get hit on a lot (i get hit on by they boyz if i'm out dancing all night on my own) but who cares? just go to a club u feel comfortable in and have fun! if i'm traveling alone in some city i've never been too i'll try and find a club there and hit that up too...i just stay sober if i don't know where i am or the crowd or whatever. i just think it depends on your personality and how comfortable and chill you are when you aren't surrounded by your safety net...

[Orisha]

Originally posted by KobeisGuilty03

WHY DONT YOU GUYS TRY THIS:

FRIENDS.COM

LOLOLOL

what..you can't stand being with yourself for one minute? Some of us aren't as co-dependent as you

you were just asking for it I couldn't resist poking some fun

[magyarcica]

I usually lurk in the DC forum... so this is my first posting in the NY one....

I am glad to see I am not the only one who likes to hang solo.... I can get really pissed off at people when I get dragged to places I don't really want to go or have to stay longer or leave earlier than I want....

I hate the gropping though.... I was in Europe for the summer and nobody bothered me..... it felt really great.

[NOT IN USE]

Originally posted by KobeisGuilty03

NOTHING MAKES YOU COOLER THAN GETTING DRESSED UP REALLY NICE JUST TO GO OUT BY YOUR SELF LOLOLOLOLOL

nice one, never did never will do it...

[glowball]

Notice the people that have like under 100 post write the BS negitive shit lol homos:D

[sheendawg]

When y'all see me at Vinyl and Cheetah especially, I am there by myself. I'm a grown woman, shit!

Plus, I know so many other fellow nutcases that it's not an issue. And when it was, I simply MET them.

I even went to the Winter Music Conference by myself and I had never even been to Miami before. When I got there, these cool kids said, "You came alone? Well you're not alone anymore!" And we had the BEST time the rest of the week. That's just how we get down!

[leener4269]

I even went to the Winter Music Conference by myself and I had never even been to Miami before. When I got there, these cool kids said, "You came alone? Well you're not alone anymore!"

almost the same thing happened with me... only i went to england for my spring break by myself. i went to clubs in london alone and went to gods kitchen in wales, and every time people found out i was by myself all the way from across the ocean, they thought i was the coolest and bravest girl at the party. plus i made tons of friends that way.

yes it is fun to go out with friends, but u gotta be able to have fun on your own before u can have fun with everyone else.

[tastyt]

Originally posted by KobeisGuilty03

NOTHING MAKES YOU COOLER THAN GETTING DRESSED UP REALLY NICE JUST TO GO OUT BY YOUR SELF LOLOLOLOLOL

I don't recall anyone saying anything about wanting to be "cool." It's about enjoying life. Don't spend so much time worrying about the way others perceive you, you just might lose some of that bitterness.

As Diabolique said... some of us know how to enterain ourselves. But I can see how that might be a problem for you.

[eccentricmofo]

Ok, well firstly Im surprised that there are more woman going out (at least on this thread) alone then men. In today's society, hell.. just being in NYC alone as a female takes gumption and strength. I've known a few woman that moved here and then left a few months after because they couldnt handle their feelings of insecure and attention.

Fellas, could you imagine it from their view, shit.. wearing a nice revealing outfit and blam..every guy within 3 feet drools...but Im getting off subject.

I went out tonight by myself, no intentionally, but plans fell threw and I was set on seeing this girl-----friend's band in the city and said the hell with it and had a blast. Granted something else came up and I had to head back home but still the mood was fine.

For the people who never done it, or considering it... Try it. Its uneasy at first but going to a place with no set plans, rides or cumbersome responsibilities (meaning friends to babysit) opens a whole new angle of meeting new people.

[rudeboyyouth]

I used to go out dolo quite a bit, but after nearly killing myself in a car accident on the way home from Factory one morning, I decided that, from now on, I'd at least take one or two people with me in case I'm too fucked up to drive home.

In 2000 (a few weeks before the S&M party at Factory), I was partying with a few friends, having a few drinks, and basically getting myself amphed to go out and dance my ass off. By the time we all decided to go home, everyone was tired, and no one even considered the idea of heading to Factory. I went home, smoked a blunt, drank a few more beers, and, around 2:30 a.m., decided to head out to Factory. I was already pretty fucked up, and probably shouldn't have been driving, but stupidity overcame me and I decided to head out.

I wound up getting into Factory pretty early (around 3:15 a.m.), and there were only a few heads chilling in there. I didn't even give a fuck for some reason. I felt pretty fucked up, and just wanted to go chill, drink, and hear some good music. I wound up doing about 6 or 7 shots of whisky before the bar closed out, and I was totally done - so done that I started falling out in the basement.

I didn't stay long. I was already drunk, couldn't keep my head up, and just wanted to pass out. Around 5:30 or so, I decided to head back home, so I left Factory, hopped in a cab, and headed over to the parking garage to pick up my car. As soon as the cab pulled up, I just opened the door and started puking all over the sidewalk. The cabby was pretty pissed, and started yelling, "No, you cannot do that shit in my cab man. C'mon, geddoutuvheer!!" I heard him, but couldn't pick my head up; I just had to get everything out.

After that shit ended, I (literally) staggered to my car, gave the guy the ticket, paid him, got into my car, and drove off. I knew I shouldn't have been driving (I couldn't even fuckin walk), but I went through the whole "I'm tired, I feel like sleeping, and I should get home because I want to pass out in my bed" self-rationalization. Ignorantly enough, I decided to head home. There have been times in the past where I have driven home pretty buzzed, but I was able to straighten up and control myself. I was never to the point where I was literally passing out behind the wheel.

I made it out of the city ok, but, by the time I got into the midtown tunnel, the sleepiness just overcame me. Right before getting out of the tunnel (on to the LIE), I fell asleep. My car swerved a bit, and my driver's side rear view mirror smacked into one of the little poles that divides the lanes in the tunnel. The smack woke me up, and I was able to gain control of the car, but my mirror was just dangling at that point. Like an asshole, I figure, "ok, I can stay awake now." I paid the toll, got on the LIE, and drove for about a mile before falling asleep again. I must've been asleep for about 30 seconds, because when I woke up again I was still in the same lane, doing about 95 mph; the only difference, however, was that I was heading straight towards a mini-van that was doing about 40 - 45 mph. I wasn't able to react in time, and just plowed right into the van, sending it flying forward a few feet. The actual impact happened so suddenly and quickly that it felt like a dream. I didn't even feel like it was really happening. Also, the impact didn't feel like it was so hard - it felt like I just bounced off the van after hitting it. I knew shit was pretty serious when smoke and steam started spewing from the front of my car.

I get out of my car, and while getting out, I realize that my knee is shredded up and totally covered in blood. It wasn't broken, but really badly cut up. It was also wedged between the crumpled door and the lower left hand side of the dashboard. I un-wedged it (not even feeling any real pain because I'm basically numb at this point), and walked around to the front of my car. What I saw was pretty scary: the entire front of the car on the driver's side was basically smushed all the way up to the windshield, and the windshield was broken in on the top. I felt as if my face was really wet, as if I'd been sweating, so I walked over to the passenger side rear-view mirror, looked at my face, and realized that my forehead was leaking blood, and that there was a very small piece of glass wedged not too deeply in my forehead. I pulled the small piece out, walked over to the driver's side of my car, and noticed a humungous Japanese guy getting out from the van that I hit. He started walking over to me very calmly, and he asked me if "I was ok." Suddenly, he decked me right in the face. I fell down, got back up, and just looked at him. I didn't even try to hit the guy back. Part of it was because I was scared shitless, another part of it was because I felt bad for plowing into him, but a big part of it had to do with fear of getting stomped out in the condition I was in. Even I were sober, the guy would've destroyed me. He looked like a jacked version of Bolo Yeung (the guy Van Damme fought at the end of "BloodSport").

I apologized to him, walked over to his van, and noticed that his wife, daughter, and mother were all sitting in the van, looking at me in shock. The daughter came out, started asking if I was drunk, and told me that she was getting her insurance information. Bolo started to phone the police, and at that point I realized that, in a matter of minutes, I was going to be fucked up the ass without a condom. So, like a truly drunken fuckin idiot, I said to Bolo, "I'm going to go get my insurance information," and once I got to my car, I got into it, slammed the door shut, started it up, and took off.

I got about 40 or 50 feet before my car died, so I pulled over on to the side of the highway. The guy pulled up in his van, ran up to me, and belted me right in the face again. I fell to the ground, got up, and just hoped he wouldn't hit me again (which he didn't). He kept asking me, "Why the fuck you trying to take off? You hit my family and then try to take off, you asshole!!" I cops were already on their way, so I decided to start looking for my insurance and registration. I was unable to find my insurance card, and by the time the police arrived I was only able to produce my registration. As soon as the cops pull up, the Japanese guy started telling them how I tried to take off after hitting them. I realized that, at this point, I was pretty much fucked up the ass, so the only thing I could think of telling the cop was, "He punched me in the face.......twice!"

The two cops were women, both of whom were very beautiful. While one cop was tending to Bolo, the other one came up to me, pulled me aside, and asked, "What happened?" At this point, I don't know how I was even able to answer the cop. I was pretty scared, and realized that the truth would only get me into a shitload of trouble, so I lied. I told the cop that I was driving in the middle lane, and that the van pulled up behind me, flashing its lights and riding my ass. I then said that the van pulled around, cut directly in front of me, and slowed down, causing me to collide into the back of it. The cop then looked at me and asked, "Have you had anything to drink tonight?" I said, "Yeh, I had one or two beers." She then said, "Yeh, I can smell it on you." At that point, the other cop came over and started talking to her partner. After about five minutes, one of them came over to me and said the following: "They (Bolo and his family) said that you tried to take off after you hit them. Is that true?" I don't know how I thought of this answer, but I said, "No, I didn't try to take off. He pulled in front of me, I was unable to avoid him, so I hit him, then he swerved off to the side. My car was still going at that point, so I pulled over, and at that time he was already behind me. I wasn't trying to take off, I just pulled over after hitting him. Then, a minute later, he gets out of his car, runs over to me, and hits me in the face." The cop looked at me and said, "listen, neither of us see any marks on your face that indicate you were punched. He's claiming that you tried to take off, and you're claiming that you were punched. Each of you are denying the other's story, so we can't prove either of them. If you want to press charges for him punching you, you will have to come down to the station, and you will be given a breath test. What I am going to do is simply put down his version of the facts (only with respect to the actual accident) and your version on the accident report, and you guys can let the insurance deal with it." I then said, "ok."

I couldn't really understand why the cop was being so lenient. A little while later, the tow truck arrived to take my car out of there. I overheard the driver talking to the cops. He then came over to me and said, "Dude, it's obvious it's their fault. There's no fuckin way someone could plow into someone that hard without the other driver cutting in front of him." The cops overheard this and didn't say anything; in fact, they almost seemed to be agreeing with him.

The cops wrote up the report as well as a summons because I was driving without valid insurance. I then hitched a ride home with the tow truck driver, got raped on the towing fee, and passed out in bed.

I woke up the next morning with cuts all over my arms, legs, neck, chest, stomach, wrists, and forehead. My left pant leg was wet with blood, and was sticking to my cuts. When I took my pants off and looked at my knee, I was in shock. I couldn't believe how much it had bled while I was sleeping. I was surprised I was still conscious. I got out of bed, hopped in my brother's car, and drove to LIJ, where I was bandaged up, given some pain killers, and sent on my way.

My life after this whole event was pretty much fucked. My car was totalled, I had no money to get a new car, and I wound up having to take the bus from L.I. into Queens everyday for work and school. This went on for about 6 months until I finally stumbled on a nice 2000 Altima, which proved to be better than the car I wrecked. It could have been much worse, however. I remember thinking of the way I felt when I was about to hit the van. Everything was just silent, and I felt so powerless. I couldnt' even believe it. I kept looking at myself and realizing how easy it is to fuck yourself up as a human. I mean, you're only skin and bone, and when you get behind the wheel of car, sometimes you (not YOU, but you know) sometimes forget that. I remember thinking how lucky I was that no one in Bolo's family was seriously injured. I would've been fucked. There was some considerable damage to his van, and as far as I knew, the troubles ended there. I felt like I was obligated to call his family and apologize, but for some reason I didn't. I didn't want to call and apologize, because I lied to the cops right in front of them, so what could I possibly say to them after that? I wasn't about to admit fault and have that shit used against me in the event of future litigation.

About 5 or 6 months later, I arrive home, and this nicely dressed man comes up to me and serves me some papers. I open the package and read the contents. The papers were notice of a suit that the family was bringing against me for negligence. Apparently, the mother suffered neck and spine injuries, some of which seemed a little far fetched, but then again, I did hit them pretty hard. They were suing for 2 million dollars (medical expenses, lost earnings, loss of future wages, pain and suffering, etc). I wasn't even surprised. I would've done the same thing. I mean, I plowed into a man and his fucking family, and pretty much got off with nothing more than a few cuts and bruises. I would be pretty pissed if I was plowed into by some drunk punk kid, and then lied to right in front of two police officers who didn't even seem to believe my story. I mean, the guy did punch me, and I think that was wrong, but it was more than justified. I'm glad, and am actually surprised, that he didn't do worse. I was really scared that the family was going to allege that I was drinking, but none of those facts were in the accident report, so they couldn't allege non-existent facts.

The lawyers for my insurance company handled the lawsuit. The family got some cash, but not much (I wasn't told exactly how much they got). I haven't spoken to the family since.

This is pretty much why I don't go out by myself anymore. I always drink when I go out, and sometimes I do the most ignorant shit. I just need to know that I can be driven home by someone who is sober. If I do go out alone once in a while, however, I just take the train in. I don't even think about taking my car out for clubbing ventures in Manhattan anymore.

I just thank God that I'm not dead, and that I was lucky enough to not have to kill someone or be killed before learning my lesson. I don't know what I would've done if I killed someone in that van.

[nfinty88]

First of all i can't believe i actuslly read that entire thing but HOLY SHIT!! You are only lucky guy..if you ever need to meet up with someone when going out let me know. don't let that shit happen again, im sure you learned your lesson though. good luck you can im me on aol Nfinty88 whenever. i neer heard of such a wtf story!!

[dgmodel]

Originally posted by rudeboyyouth

I used to go out dolo quite a bit, but after nearly killing myself in a car accident on the way home from Factory one morning, I decided that, from now on, I'd at least take one or two people with me in case I'm too fucked up to drive home.

In 2000 (a few weeks before the S&M party at Factory), I was partying with a few friends, having a few drinks, and basically getting myself amphed to go out and dance my ass off. By the time we all decided to go home, everyone was tired, and no one even considered the idea of heading to Factory. I went home, smoked a blunt, drank a few more beers, and, around 2:30 a.m., decided to head out to Factory. I was already pretty fucked up, and probably shouldn't have been driving, but stupidity overcame me and I decided to head out.

I wound up getting into Factory pretty early (around 3:15 a.m.), and there were only a few heads chilling in there. I didn't even give a fuck for some reason. I felt pretty fucked up, and just wanted to go chill, drink, and hear some good music. I wound up doing about 6 or 7 shots of whisky before the bar closed out, and I was totally done - so done that I started falling out in the basement.

I didn't stay long. I was already drunk, couldn't keep my head up, and just wanted to pass out. Around 5:30 or so, I decided to head back home, so I left Factory, hopped in a cab, and headed over to the parking garage to pick up my car. As soon as the cab pulled up, I just opened the door and started puking all over the sidewalk. The cabby was pretty pissed, and started yelling, "No, you cannot do that shit in my cab man. C'mon, geddoutuvheer!!" I heard him, but couldn't pick my head up; I just had to get everything out.

After that shit ended, I (literally) staggered to my car, gave the guy the ticket, paid him, got into my car, and drove off. I knew I shouldn't have been driving (I couldn't even fuckin walk), but I went through the whole "I'm tired, I feel like sleeping, and I should get home because I want to pass out in my bed" self-rationalization. Ignorantly enough, I decided to head home. There have been times in the past where I have driven home pretty buzzed, but I was able to straighten up and control myself. I was never to the point where I was literally passing out behind the wheel.

I made it out of the city ok, but, by the time I got into the midtown tunnel, the sleepiness just overcame me. Right before getting out of the tunnel (on to the LIE), I fell asleep. My car swerved a bit, and my driver's side rear view mirror smacked into one of the little poles that divides the lanes in the tunnel. The smack woke me up, and I was able to gain control of the car, but my mirror was just dangling at that point. Like an asshole, I figure, "ok, I can stay awake now." I paid the toll, got on the LIE, and drove for about a mile before falling asleep again. I must've been asleep for about 30 seconds, because when I woke up again I was still in the same lane, doing about 95 mph; the only difference, however, was that I was heading straight towards a mini-van that was doing about 40 - 45 mph. I wasn't able to react in time, and just plowed right into the van, sending it flying forward a few feet. The actual impact happened so suddenly and quickly that it felt like a dream. I didn't even feel like it was really happening. Also, the impact didn't feel like it was so hard - it felt like I just bounced off the van after hitting it. I knew shit was pretty serious when smoke and steam started spewing from the front of my car.

I get out of my car, and while getting out, I realize that my knee is shredded up and totally covered in blood. It wasn't broken, but really badly cut up. It was also wedged between the crumpled door and the lower left hand side of the dashboard. I un-wedged it (not even feeling any real pain because I'm basically numb at this point), and walked around to the front of my car. What I saw was pretty scary: the entire front of the car on the driver's side was basically smushed all the way up to the windshield, and the windshield was broken in on the top. I felt as if my face was really wet, as if I'd been sweating, so I walked over to the passenger side rear-view mirror, looked at my face, and realized that my forehead was leaking blood, and that there was a very small piece of glass wedged not too deeply in my forehead. I pulled the small piece out, walked over to the driver's side of my car, and noticed a humungous Japanese guy getting out from the van that I hit. He started walking over to me very calmly, and he asked me if "I was ok." Suddenly, he decked me right in the face. I fell down, got back up, and just looked at him. I didn't even try to hit the guy back. Part of it was because I was scared shitless, another part of it was because I felt bad for plowing into him, but a big part of it had to do with fear of getting stomped out in the condition I was in. Even I were sober, the guy would've destroyed me. He looked like a jacked version of Bolo Yeung (the guy Van Damme fought at the end of "BloodSport").

I apologized to him, walked over to his van, and noticed that his wife, daughter, and mother were all sitting in the van, looking at me in shock. The daughter came out, started asking if I was drunk, and told me that she was getting her insurance information. Bolo started to phone the police, and at that point I realized that, in a matter of minutes, I was going to be fucked up the ass without a condom. So, like a truly drunken fuckin idiot, I said to Bolo, "I'm going to go get my insurance information," and once I got to my car, I got into it, slammed the door shut, started it up, and took off.

I got about 40 or 50 feet before my car died, so I pulled over on to the side of the highway. The guy pulled up in his van, ran up to me, and belted me right in the face again. I fell to the ground, got up, and just hoped he wouldn't hit me again (which he didn't). He kept asking me, "Why the fuck you trying to take off? You hit my family and then try to take off, you asshole!!" I cops were already on their way, so I decided to start looking for my insurance and registration. I was unable to find my insurance card, and by the time the police arrived I was only able to produce my registration. As soon as the cops pull up, the Japanese guy started telling them how I tried to take off after hitting them. I realized that, at this point, I was pretty much fucked up the ass, so the only thing I could think of telling the cop was, "He punched me in the face.......twice!"

The two cops were women, both of whom were very beautiful. While one cop was tending to Bolo, the other one came up to me, pulled me aside, and asked, "What happened?" At this point, I don't know how I was even able to answer the cop. I was pretty scared, and realized that the truth would only get me into a shitload of trouble, so I lied. I told the cop that I was driving in the middle lane, and that the van pulled up behind me, flashing its lights and riding my ass. I then said that the van pulled around, cut directly in front of me, and slowed down, causing me to collide into the back of it. The cop then looked at me and asked, "Have you had anything to drink tonight?" I said, "Yeh, I had one or two beers." She then said, "Yeh, I can smell it on you." At that point, the other cop came over and started talking to her partner. After about five minutes, one of them came over to me and said the following: "They (Bolo and his family) said that you tried to take off after you hit them. Is that true?" I don't know how I thought of this answer, but I said, "No, I didn't try to take off. He pulled in front of me, I was unable to avoid him, so I hit him, then he swerved off to the side. My car was still going at that point, so I pulled over, and at that time he was already behind me. I wasn't trying to take off, I just pulled over after hitting him. Then, a minute later, he gets out of his car, runs over to me, and hits me in the face." The cop looked at me and said, "listen, neither of us see any marks on your face that indicate you were punched. He's claiming that you tried to take off, and you're claiming that you were punched. Each of you are denying the other's story, so we can't prove either of them. If you want to press charges for him punching you, you will have to come down to the station, and you will be given a breath test. What I am going to do is simply put down his version of the facts (only with respect to the actual accident) and your version on the accident report, and you guys can let the insurance deal with it." I then said, "ok."

I couldn't really understand why the cop was being so lenient. A little while later, the tow truck arrived to take my car out of there. I overheard the driver talking to the cops. He then came over to me and said, "Dude, it's obvious it's their fault. There's no fuckin way someone could plow into someone that hard without the other driver cutting in front of him." The cops overheard this and didn't say anything; in fact, they almost seemed to be agreeing with him.

The cops wrote up the report as well as a summons because I was driving without valid insurance. I then hitched a ride home with the tow truck driver, got raped on the towing fee, and passed out in bed.

I woke up the next morning with cuts all over my arms, legs, neck, chest, stomach, wrists, and forehead. My left pant leg was wet with blood, and was sticking to my cuts. When I took my pants off and looked at my knee, I was in shock. I couldn't believe how much it had bled while I was sleeping. I was surprised I was still conscious. I got out of bed, hopped in my brother's car, and drove to LIJ, where I was bandaged up, given some pain killers, and sent on my way.

My life after this whole event was pretty much fucked. My car was totalled, I had no money to get a new car, and I wound up having to take the bus from L.I. into Queens everyday for work and school. This went on for about 6 months until I finally stumbled on a nice 2000 Altima, which proved to be better than the car I wrecked. It could have been much worse, however. I remember thinking of the way I felt when I was about to hit the van. Everything was just silent, and I felt so powerless. I couldnt' even believe it. I kept looking at myself and realizing how easy it is to fuck yourself up as a human. I mean, you're only skin and bone, and when you get behind the wheel of car, sometimes you (not YOU, but you know) sometimes forget that. I remember thinking how lucky I was that no one in Bolo's family was seriously injured. I would've been fucked. There was some considerable damage to his van, and as far as I knew, the troubles ended there. I felt like I was obligated to call his family and apologize, but for some reason I didn't. I didn't want to call and apologize, because I lied to the cops right in front of them, so what could I possibly say to them after that? I wasn't about to admit fault and have that shit used against me in the event of future litigation.

About 5 or 6 months later, I arrive home, and this nicely dressed man comes up to me and serves me some papers. I open the package and read the contents. The papers were notice of a suit that the family was bringing against me for negligence. Apparently, the mother suffered neck and spine injuries, some of which seemed a little far fetched, but then again, I did hit them pretty hard. They were suing for 2 million dollars (medical expenses, lost earnings, loss of future wages, pain and suffering, etc). I wasn't even surprised. I would've done the same thing. I mean, I plowed into a man and his fucking family, and pretty much got off with nothing more than a few cuts and bruises. I would be pretty pissed if I was plowed into by some drunk punk kid, and then lied to right in front of two police officers who didn't even seem to believe my story. I mean, the guy did punch me, and I think that was wrong, but it was more than justified. I'm glad, and am actually surprised, that he didn't do worse. I was really scared that the family was going to allege that I was drinking, but none of those facts were in the accident report, so they couldn't allege non-existent facts.

The lawyers for my insurance company handled the lawsuit. The family got some cash, but not much (I wasn't told exactly how much they got). I haven't spoken to the family since.

This is pretty much why I don't go out by myself anymore. I always drink when I go out, and sometimes I do the most ignorant shit. I just need to know that I can be driven home by someone who is sober. If I do go out alone once in a while, however, I just take the train in. I don't even think about taking my car out for clubbing ventures in Manhattan anymore.

I just thank God that I'm not dead, and that I was lucky enough to not have to kill someone or be killed before learning my lesson. I don't know what I would've done if I killed someone in that van.

[eccentricmofo]

Great story, and dont take this in a sarcastic matter, but Im happy that you learned something from it.

You'd be surprised how many people have brushes with death and yet still have not a clue that they caused such a potential.

But then again, unfortunately you can speak about things till your blue in the face and some people will never get a clue until they experience something on their own. But hopefully your story will be a wakeup call for the few.

If you could copy and post that and put it into the drug forum thing it may be a good idea. There are some really clueless individuals that b.s. on that thread and it just scares me to death.

And of course whenever I attempt to explain why Im a straight edge they have no clue. I wish I had free time to talk about all of my friends that overdosed, were killed, killed others..blah blah..you know what I mean.

Very responsible move..kudos to you..

[solbeam]

Originally posted by dgmodel

it's actually worth the read...

anyway...I'm glad to see that you were able to take something away from your experience...thankfully no one was seriously hurt or worse

[tasmaniandevil]

Hey dude...I am a relative of that family....that's pretty fucked up what u did!!! I am copying this story to send it to them so they can give it to their lawyer to file another lawsuit against you for the maximum allowable by law!!!! I can't believe what a fucked up thing u did!!! We're gonna make sure the throw the book at you real hard, esp. for lying to 5-0...and I got your unedited confession right here...Start shitting bricks!!!!

Originally posted by rudeboyyouth

I used to go out dolo quite a bit, but after nearly killing myself in a car accident on the way home from Factory one morning, I decided that, from now on, I'd at least take one or two people with me in case I'm too fucked up to drive home.

In 2000 (a few weeks before the S&M party at Factory), I was partying with a few friends, having a few drinks, and basically getting myself amphed to go out and dance my ass off. By the time we all decided to go home, everyone was tired, and no one even considered the idea of heading to Factory. I went home, smoked a blunt, drank a few more beers, and, around 2:30 a.m., decided to head out to Factory. I was already pretty fucked up, and probably shouldn't have been driving, but stupidity overcame me and I decided to head out.

I wound up getting into Factory pretty early (around 3:15 a.m.), and there were only a few heads chilling in there. I didn't even give a fuck for some reason. I felt pretty fucked up, and just wanted to go chill, drink, and hear some good music. I wound up doing about 6 or 7 shots of whisky before the bar closed out, and I was totally done - so done that I started falling out in the basement.

I didn't stay long. I was already drunk, couldn't keep my head up, and just wanted to pass out. Around 5:30 or so, I decided to head back home, so I left Factory, hopped in a cab, and headed over to the parking garage to pick up my car. As soon as the cab pulled up, I just opened the door and started puking all over the sidewalk. The cabby was pretty pissed, and started yelling, "No, you cannot do that shit in my cab man. C'mon, geddoutuvheer!!" I heard him, but couldn't pick my head up; I just had to get everything out.

After that shit ended, I (literally) staggered to my car, gave the guy the ticket, paid him, got into my car, and drove off. I knew I shouldn't have been driving (I couldn't even fuckin walk), but I went through the whole "I'm tired, I feel like sleeping, and I should get home because I want to pass out in my bed" self-rationalization. Ignorantly enough, I decided to head home. There have been times in the past where I have driven home pretty buzzed, but I was able to straighten up and control myself. I was never to the point where I was literally passing out behind the wheel.

I made it out of the city ok, but, by the time I got into the midtown tunnel, the sleepiness just overcame me. Right before getting out of the tunnel (on to the LIE), I fell asleep. My car swerved a bit, and my driver's side rear view mirror smacked into one of the little poles that divides the lanes in the tunnel. The smack woke me up, and I was able to gain control of the car, but my mirror was just dangling at that point. Like an asshole, I figure, "ok, I can stay awake now." I paid the toll, got on the LIE, and drove for about a mile before falling asleep again. I must've been asleep for about 30 seconds, because when I woke up again I was still in the same lane, doing about 95 mph; the only difference, however, was that I was heading straight towards a mini-van that was doing about 40 - 45 mph. I wasn't able to react in time, and just plowed right into the van, sending it flying forward a few feet. The actual impact happened so suddenly and quickly that it felt like a dream. I didn't even feel like it was really happening. Also, the impact didn't feel like it was so hard - it felt like I just bounced off the van after hitting it. I knew shit was pretty serious when smoke and steam started spewing from the front of my car.

I get out of my car, and while getting out, I realize that my knee is shredded up and totally covered in blood. It wasn't broken, but really badly cut up. It was also wedged between the crumpled door and the lower left hand side of the dashboard. I un-wedged it (not even feeling any real pain because I'm basically numb at this point), and walked around to the front of my car. What I saw was pretty scary: the entire front of the car on the driver's side was basically smushed all the way up to the windshield, and the windshield was broken in on the top. I felt as if my face was really wet, as if I'd been sweating, so I walked over to the passenger side rear-view mirror, looked at my face, and realized that my forehead was leaking blood, and that there was a very small piece of glass wedged not too deeply in my forehead. I pulled the small piece out, walked over to the driver's side of my car, and noticed a humungous Japanese guy getting out from the van that I hit. He started walking over to me very calmly, and he asked me if "I was ok." Suddenly, he decked me right in the face. I fell down, got back up, and just looked at him. I didn't even try to hit the guy back. Part of it was because I was scared shitless, another part of it was because I felt bad for plowing into him, but a big part of it had to do with fear of getting stomped out in the condition I was in. Even I were sober, the guy would've destroyed me. He looked like a jacked version of Bolo Yeung (the guy Van Damme fought at the end of "BloodSport").

I apologized to him, walked over to his van, and noticed that his wife, daughter, and mother were all sitting in the van, looking at me in shock. The daughter came out, started asking if I was drunk, and told me that she was getting her insurance information. Bolo started to phone the police, and at that point I realized that, in a matter of minutes, I was going to be fucked up the ass without a condom. So, like a truly drunken fuckin idiot, I said to Bolo, "I'm going to go get my insurance information," and once I got to my car, I got into it, slammed the door shut, started it up, and took off.

I got about 40 or 50 feet before my car died, so I pulled over on to the side of the highway. The guy pulled up in his van, ran up to me, and belted me right in the face again. I fell to the ground, got up, and just hoped he wouldn't hit me again (which he didn't). He kept asking me, "Why the fuck you trying to take off? You hit my family and then try to take off, you asshole!!" I cops were already on their way, so I decided to start looking for my insurance and registration. I was unable to find my insurance card, and by the time the police arrived I was only able to produce my registration. As soon as the cops pull up, the Japanese guy started telling them how I tried to take off after hitting them. I realized that, at this point, I was pretty much fucked up the ass, so the only thing I could think of telling the cop was, "He punched me in the face.......twice!"

The two cops were women, both of whom were very beautiful. While one cop was tending to Bolo, the other one came up to me, pulled me aside, and asked, "What happened?" At this point, I don't know how I was even able to answer the cop. I was pretty scared, and realized that the truth would only get me into a shitload of trouble, so I lied. I told the cop that I was driving in the middle lane, and that the van pulled up behind me, flashing its lights and riding my ass. I then said that the van pulled around, cut directly in front of me, and slowed down, causing me to collide into the back of it. The cop then looked at me and asked, "Have you had anything to drink tonight?" I said, "Yeh, I had one or two beers." She then said, "Yeh, I can smell it on you." At that point, the other cop came over and started talking to her partner. After about five minutes, one of them came over to me and said the following: "They (Bolo and his family) said that you tried to take off after you hit them. Is that true?" I don't know how I thought of this answer, but I said, "No, I didn't try to take off. He pulled in front of me, I was unable to avoid him, so I hit him, then he swerved off to the side. My car was still going at that point, so I pulled over, and at that time he was already behind me. I wasn't trying to take off, I just pulled over after hitting him. Then, a minute later, he gets out of his car, runs over to me, and hits me in the face." The cop looked at me and said, "listen, neither of us see any marks on your face that indicate you were punched. He's claiming that you tried to take off, and you're claiming that you were punched. Each of you are denying the other's story, so we can't prove either of them. If you want to press charges for him punching you, you will have to come down to the station, and you will be given a breath test. What I am going to do is simply put down his version of the facts (only with respect to the actual accident) and your version on the accident report, and you guys can let the insurance deal with it." I then said, "ok."

I couldn't really understand why the cop was being so lenient. A little while later, the tow truck arrived to take my car out of there. I overheard the driver talking to the cops. He then came over to me and said, "Dude, it's obvious it's their fault. There's no fuckin way someone could plow into someone that hard without the other driver cutting in front of him." The cops overheard this and didn't say anything; in fact, they almost seemed to be agreeing with him.

The cops wrote up the report as well as a summons because I was driving without valid insurance. I then hitched a ride home with the tow truck driver, got raped on the towing fee, and passed out in bed.

I woke up the next morning with cuts all over my arms, legs, neck, chest, stomach, wrists, and forehead. My left pant leg was wet with blood, and was sticking to my cuts. When I took my pants off and looked at my knee, I was in shock. I couldn't believe how much it had bled while I was sleeping. I was surprised I was still conscious. I got out of bed, hopped in my brother's car, and drove to LIJ, where I was bandaged up, given some pain killers, and sent on my way.

My life after this whole event was pretty much fucked. My car was totalled, I had no money to get a new car, and I wound up having to take the bus from L.I. into Queens everyday for work and school. This went on for about 6 months until I finally stumbled on a nice 2000 Altima, which proved to be better than the car I wrecked. It could have been much worse, however. I remember thinking of the way I felt when I was about to hit the van. Everything was just silent, and I felt so powerless. I couldnt' even believe it. I kept looking at myself and realizing how easy it is to fuck yourself up as a human. I mean, you're only skin and bone, and when you get behind the wheel of car, sometimes you (not YOU, but you know) sometimes forget that. I remember thinking how lucky I was that no one in Bolo's family was seriously injured. I would've been fucked. There was some considerable damage to his van, and as far as I knew, the troubles ended there. I felt like I was obligated to call his family and apologize, but for some reason I didn't. I didn't want to call and apologize, because I lied to the cops right in front of them, so what could I possibly say to them after that? I wasn't about to admit fault and have that shit used against me in the event of future litigation.

About 5 or 6 months later, I arrive home, and this nicely dressed man comes up to me and serves me some papers. I open the package and read the contents. The papers were notice of a suit that the family was bringing against me for negligence. Apparently, the mother suffered neck and spine injuries, some of which seemed a little far fetched, but then again, I did hit them pretty hard. They were suing for 2 million dollars (medical expenses, lost earnings, loss of future wages, pain and suffering, etc). I wasn't even surprised. I would've done the same thing. I mean, I plowed into a man and his fucking family, and pretty much got off with nothing more than a few cuts and bruises. I would be pretty pissed if I was plowed into by some drunk punk kid, and then lied to right in front of two police officers who didn't even seem to believe my story. I mean, the guy did punch me, and I think that was wrong, but it was more than justified. I'm glad, and am actually surprised, that he didn't do worse. I was really scared that the family was going to allege that I was drinking, but none of those facts were in the accident report, so they couldn't allege non-existent facts.

The lawyers for my insurance company handled the lawsuit. The family got some cash, but not much (I wasn't told exactly how much they got). I haven't spoken to the family since.

This is pretty much why I don't go out by myself anymore. I always drink when I go out, and sometimes I do the most ignorant shit. I just need to know that I can be driven home by someone who is sober. If I do go out alone once in a while, however, I just take the train in. I don't even think about taking my car out for clubbing ventures in Manhattan anymore.

I just thank God that I'm not dead, and that I was lucky enough to not have to kill someone or be killed before learning my lesson. I don't know what I would've done if I killed someone in that van.

[leener4269]

shit. is all this for real. the message board has turned into... a made for tv movie or something. not even joking. alcohol is one of the worst drugs. and i cant believe any of this. speechless.

[dgmodel]

Originally posted by solbeam

it's actually worth the read...

anyway...I'm glad to see that you were able to take something away from your experience...thankfully no one was seriously hurt or worse

i read it banana...

[solbeam]

Originally posted by dgmodel

i read it banana...

super

[ghhhhhost]

Originally posted by tasmaniandevil

Hey dude...I am a relative of that family....that's pretty fucked up what u did!!! I am copying this story to send it to them so they can give it to their lawyer to file another lawsuit against you for the maximum allowable by law!!!! I can't believe what a fucked up thing u did!!! We're gonna make sure the throw the book at you real hard, esp. for lying to 5-0...and I got your unedited confession right here...Start shitting bricks!!!!

they settled with the insurance company..no one died..what the fuck r u gona sue him for? civil suit ? doubt it..

nice joke dickhead

[afa8317]

Originally posted by dystopia77

Due to lack of genre consensus, I've gone clubbing on my own in London a few times at Fabric before I overdid the place but even if I go with friends I tend to go wandering on my own for hours.

Been scouring the web for NYC clubbing info. I'm in town for four weeks on biz, just wondering which clubs in NYC are best to go on one's own? Trying to find somewhere to go tomorrow evening.

Royston.

If you are ever in town when Danny Howells is go to Arc.