One that leaps to mind that was pretty frikkin harsh actually happened whilst I was posting in Gibberings one night so was a blow-by-blow account during parts of it. Some may even recall...
Was tripping on 2C-E one night. Having a nice lil trip (20mg probably cos was my standard dose at the time) and chatting away around EADD as ever when the doorbell rang. Wasn't expecting anybody so was mildly nervy about answering but was 10pm or 11pm - summat like that - so assumed it was probably me ketaman who may be bringing me Goodies. But I had a lil looksee through the peephole just to check and yes it was - woop-woop!
Actually not woop-woop as it turned out cos as soon as I opened it ketaman was gone. Actually he had just stepped to the side where I couldn't see him. Instead I could see some geezer I've never seen before (or, thankfully, since) holding a rather large knife and gesticulating with it in distinctly unfriendly stylee shouting "Give me all your fukkin drugs and money - NOW!" in a thick Brummy accent. I was so surprised I very nearly didn't think to shut the door sharpish but instinct took over and I managed to get it mostly shut aside from having the bloke's arm halfway through it. Not the knifey arm though or I could've twatted it out his hand or summat. As it was I just had to put all my weight against the door and try to make it as uncomfortable as possible for him to keep his arm there. After a few moments of arm-squishing I managed to get the door shut.
Of course then the kicking started. The pair of 'em booting fuck out me door - and it ain't exactly the most solid door in the world. Top half is glass for a start (although the kinda glass that doesn't smash so easy thankfully) and the bottom half is pretty flimsy in the grand scheme. And the lock was hardly Fort Knox stylee either. Somewhat amazingly, the door held for several minutes though which gave me time to pace frantically wondering what the fuck I was gonna do. Of course in less panicky and/or less tripping pretty frikkin
hard on 2C-E state of mind I would probably have thought to exit swiftly through living room window (am on the ground floor). Simply did not occur to me though.
What did occur was to grab me stash (at the time rather a large selection of RCs - and in quite significant quantity - but all bagged up within a larger baggie which happened to be very much pocket-sized) and hide it in a pack of frozen fish fillets in me freezer. Dunno why I decided that was the best course of action to take to save me beloved Goodies but it made perfect sense at the time. As to what to do with my own personage I was still somewhat at a loss and the door was clearly not gonna last much longer so went back to put my weight against it hoping that a neighbour had called cops and I'd be able to keep 'em out for long enough.
Literally the very moment I got to the door it went through and I was kinda like a rabbit in the headlights stood in me hallway, in me slippers, with somebody I've known for years (who was (at the time) an acquaintance I was on friendly enough terms with if not somebody I'd think of as a mate... but definitely not somebody I'd expect to be robbing me at knifepoint either
![:\](https://bluelight.org/xf/BL_Images/Orig_Emoji/wrygrin.gif "wry grin :\")
) and some Brummy geezer with a pretty hefty blade and only 2-3 feet between us. I just froze but something must've clicked in ketaman's deeply addled brain (found out later they had both been binging on coke, booze and benzos for days) cos he shoved knifeboy to one side and yelled at me to run. And believe me I ran. They didn't give chase cos presumably felt that ransacking the flat for Goodies would be more productive.
I happened to have my mobile in my pocket as I scuttered about the place keeping my distance but also trying to keep an eye on what was happening so called plod only to find out that a) no fukker else had despite the screamed threats of intended robbery and bodily harm (such neighbourly folk are my neighbours
) and b) it'd be 45-60 minutes before police would arrive cos the pigpen in town was shut so they'd have to send a couple out from the next town (which is quite some distance away). Gotta
community policing 8)
As I was waiting for plod and trying to keep an eye on what was afoot in me flat (from a safe distance and behind fences, hedges and stuff) Felix called me to see what was a-gwarnin. Actually I think he'd phoned a couple times before when I was waiting for the door to go through and the like. Definitely helped to have a friendly voice there cos I was still tripping pretty heavily and y'all can probably imagine I was just a wee bit on edge by this point.
Anyway, to cut to the chase, police eventually turned up after the two lil scallywags had scarpered taking very little of value and making a bit of a mess. Was pretty frikkin disturbing having to deal with a flat full o' piggies in my swirlsome state too, really. They ask the most irksome questions and cast all kindsa aspersions about how it was probably just some feud between drug dealers (so therefore I probably deserved it anyway). One in particular was a right smugface cunt and made all kindsa snarky comments about my (by that point) rather dishevelled condition, the state of the flat (which was pretty bad at the time, I must admit
). They made a really big thing about how I seemed nervous when making myself a cuppa coffee cos I was shaking - had I taken anything that night, by any chance? Fuck right off you smarmy piglet cunt. In making coffee I did discover the fukkers nicked my milk though... and a number of other items from my fridge (drunken munchies, see). They'd also taken food from my freezer. All of it, in fact. Aside from one pack of frozen fish
Was properly traumatised by it all actually. Took months to feel safe in my own home again. For the first few weeks I couldn't sleep unless I wedged my freezer up against the front door (I was given one but it never worked but finally found a use for it). Had to sleep with a light on for weeks too. Faded eventually, of course. But I'd definitely say that counts as a Bad Thing wot 'appened to me on drugs. Probably not the worst thing but have rambled quite enough for one post :D
), kinda squishy nature is ripe for being manipulated and taken advantage of at times but think I am also a pretty decent judge of character and the fella really isn't like that. It wasn't him at all. You can tell when somebody is going through the motions and making the right noises and you can tell when somebody is truly remorseful. He was very much the latter and have never been one for holding grudges. That and the fact I know I must've done plenty stuff which hurt people (including friends) in one way or another over the years - specifically in my booze, benzos, crack 'n' smack-addled years so am in no position to feel superior cos I know exactly how shit like that can happen without you ever planning on, expecting or wanting it 
