I used to date a dealer WAY back in the day.

One night we were at a rave and he dosed me with something. We were having a good time at first and then I got slammed, I couldn't even stand up and started losing consciousness. He and his friend managed to drag me out of the building and he kept me awake while his friend got the car. I went in and out and vaguely remember complaining about my jaw being clenched so hard it felt like my teeth were going to break. They pulled into the parking lot at the hospital and I refused to go in, I was coming back out of whatever just happened. I kept telling him if I went in there and they called my mom, she'd fucking kill me and him. So they took me back to my apartment and took care of me for the rest of the night, only leaving once I was sober again and able to get around OK. Crazy night.

There was another night - you know because I never learn my lesson. We were at a rave and he had some goodies to sell. We split up and I was just like - walking around talking to people and fucked out of my head. So the police show up and they start lining people up along the wall. I was there, hands behind my back and people start passing shit down the line. Someone made a run and two officers went after him. When that happened a girl in our group split off from the line and grabbed my arm, we took off running out of there and got out a back door. It's foggy - I was really screwed up that night. We ran for quite a while and got into her car, then my boyfriend was already waiting there - they dropped me off at my uncle's apartment and I'm pretty sure that's the last time I went out with him anywhere, we split not too long after.