Jock was all of nineteen and more than halfway through his apprenticeship with a building firm. He loved to party on the weekends, and if he didn’t have to work he would have loved to party every night of the week.
One Saturday night he was invited by this guy and his girlfriend to go back to their house for “a bit of a romp”. Jock thought it a good idea, and followed the couple’s old van to their house in his car.
Would he like a beer? A coffee? Anything? Jock thought he’d like a coffee. Why not? He had a night of “romping” ahead of him and plenty of time later for a beer or two.
Twenty minutes after finishing his coffee he knew it had been laced with something. One of his hands started to shake, and he felt scared. There was no reason to feel scared but he did. He was terrified, in fact, of something unseen. He stumbled outside and got in his car. He drove off.
He didn’t have a clue where he was going. He just drove, quite slowly because things were a bit fuzzy, but he had to get away. There was someone standing under a street light. It was a hitchhiker. Jock stopped.
“Can you drive?” asked Jock. The hitchhiker could. “Can you drive me home? Someone laced my coffee and I’m not thinking straight.”
The hitchhiker drove. When he got safely home Jock gave the hitchhiker money to get a taxi to where he was going. All night Jock sat up in his bed staring at the door. He was scared stupid. He thought someone would come through the door to get him.
This was a turning point for Jock. He settled down (ever so slightly), met someone, fell in love, and they now have five kids. Most weekends Jock takes the kids camping or fishing. Or they just mess about. A good story, eh?