In my single years, early and mid-twenties, going out to nightclubs was a common thing. Friday night was the day, as Saturday was date night. The year I worked at the Telephone Company in Troy, we would go out in groups. I remember the Jamaica Inn, The Thunderbird, and some other places in the Saratoga area for Girls' Night Out. Single in Cambridge, also out with the girls, though sometimes a mixed group. Though most gatherings were house parties---almost every weekend, we also visited The Town House, a place called The Orient, and a few other places in the area. But our most memorable nights on the town, every Friday night, were just 2 of us. Very seldom, when Dorothy was not spoken for, we would go out to a place of her choosing in her neck of the woods.
But mostly, it was Ruth and me, and we had our routine down. If we dropped in at Corkey's, The OCA, the Circle Inn, the Vandenburg, Country Grove or other venues, we would often end the night at Faye's, where we would order pizza and felt comfortable, knowing the owner and the bartender, who had sort of befriended us, and would look out for us if needed. Sometimes, after closing hour--was it at 3a.m.---they would ask us to join them at the closed bar. The bartender drank coffee, and if anyone was hungry, we'd all go to the all-night diner at the foot of the hill: Thorny's or possibly The Palace, am not sure. The point is we were used to feeling safe.
One night after attending a graduation party, probably for Ruth's niece, we were dressed up and decided to go a little out of our element to a newer and more "formal" place, the Airport Inn, as I recall. We entered and sat at a table, as usual. And as often happened, 2 men sent us drinks and then joined us. The hotel was then hosting a convention, for some company, exclusively men, and most from out of town, and probably in their 30's, and most likely married. That probably should have been a red flag, but we were completely unaware, being in our 20's. \
Now I'm not saying this as any attempt to take credit, but as usually happened it seemed I always drew the attention of the really nice guy in the group. Nice guy complimented me as having nice hair and wearing a nice dress, and sort of wondered why we were in this place. Hmm. Then he said this to me, rather chilling:
"You know that your friend is not going home with you tonight."
"Of course she is," I answered. "No, she's not," he said.
I didn't know what to say, or think. My friend had left our table to dance; there was a band. Then she and her partner sat at the bar, so this "nice guy" and I were alone at our table. After delivering this message to me, he left, and shortly after Ruth came back to the table. She sat down and said she felt kind of funny, but we didn't think too much of it at first. Then I told her what my "nice guy" had said. We stared at each other. She said that "her guy," still waiting for her at the bar, had bought her a drink there, but had slid it down the bar, toward him. Now it was clear---she suspected he had slipped something into her glass. The guys had paid for the drinks we'd had at the table, but we wanted out. Wanting to be free, we threw some money on the table and out the door we went. I still remember it was late on a warm summer night and we actually ran across the unfamiliar parking lot to my car. It was an exciting and exhilarating escape, ever so slightly tinged with danger. Ruth was the one who got away.
