Raped By a Drunk Cowboy
Call it what you want – sexual assault, sexual coercion, rape – it’s WRONG.
Submitted by: Anonymous
There was a guy in town some of us knew as “Drunk Cowboy” because he frequented local bars, wore a cowboy hat, and sang karaoke. I assumed he was probably an alcoholic, because he got loud in the establishments and started acting pretty stupid. I’d spoken to him a few times, and we had mutual acquaintances. Most women thought he was a good looking guy, but he had too many issues for my taste and totally not my type.
One evening I went to happy hour and Drunk Cowboy sat next to me. We chatted a bit and he picked up my tab, which I thought was nice. By the time I was ready to leave, I realized I needed to call an Uber, because I was too tipsy to drive. Drunk Cowboy offered me a ride, since he was heading in my direction. I obliged, thinking nothing of it, because in a small town, people often give each other rides. Plus, I hadn’t heard anything bad about him from anyone else.
I realized I was hungry when we got to my place, so I invited him in for some pizza I was going to cook. There was nothing strange about the encounter. There was no flirting (at least I didn’t see it), no kissing, no touching. It was simply two people sharing a pizza and shooting the shit.
Drunk Cowboy decided he was too drunk to leave, so I agreed for him to sleep on the other side of my bed. I kept my clothing on completely – long pants and a long-sleeved shirt. I recall falling asleep quickly, as I was exhausted and the alcohol made me more tired. At some point – and I’m unsure of how long I’d been asleep, I awoke to Drunk Cowboy feeling me up and attempting to take my pants off. I tried moving my body around, moving his hands away, saying no. I recall saying “no, no, no, please no” over and over. I know he heard me, but he ignored me. I had no intention of having sex with him or anything else. I wasn’t turned on. He wouldn’t stop, and I was too weak to fight him off. He was on top of me holding my legs down with either his legs or hand, I coudn’t tell. He entered me, had sex with me for a few minutes, came inside of me, rolled over, put his clothes back on, and went back to sleep.
At first I thought I was having a nightmare, but it was real, and I couldn’t get back to sleep. I lay there stunned and not knowing what to do. I felt like a wounded animal and blamed myself for allowing someone I barely knew into my home and bed. I blamed myself, because I was too drunk to fight back.
The day after it happened, I didn’t leave my house. I couldn’t take a long enough hot shower to wash away the awful feelings. I worried about having an STD. I had bruises on my inner thigh that appeared to be a handprint. I felt like total shit. I canceled a date a day or so later that I had been looking forward to, because I couldn’t face anyone or be myself. I felt numb. I stopped shaving for a few weeks until I couldn’t stand it anymore – but I knew no one would be feeling my legs or anything else anytime soon. I wanted no one to touch me. I was just healing from other issues in my life. This set me back again, I felt. I told one trusted friend, because I had to get it out, but no one else until now.
I haven’t seen or heard from Drunk Cowboy again, although we don’t have each other’s phone numbers either. I have avoided the last place I saw him and any other places I may see him. I really have nothing to say to him, because I’m pretty sure he’s the type of guy that would either say it was consensual or just deny it. I really don’t care if I ever see him again. But I do wonder if he’s done this to anyone else in my town.