Audrey M.
Google
I was roofied here on 9/27/25. While the male bartenders who served me failed me by allowing other patrons (male) to pass me the drinks I had ordered, a female employee came to the rescue by calling me an ambulance long after I lost all control of my body. This was after just three lychee martinis over 1.5 hours.
There should not have been barstools at the bar on a busy night; as a result, there was nowhere to squeeze in to order a drink, so strangers passed me my drinks, and the bartenders saw this happening. Employees did not act until 30+ minutes after my friends took me to the bathroom, where I slumped over on the floor. I remember, through a haze, being futilely lifted by a security guard, my limp body exposed as my shirt and skirt were pulled up.
Unfortunately, it is now January, and I am still dealing with the ambulance costs and emotional distress from the ordeal. To make matters worse, the ER refused to test me for date rape drugs and only prescribed Tylenol as I sat there shivering and scared, barely able to advocate for myself after my autonomy and dignity had been stripped at Verlaine.
The martinis were good, but I get sick to my stomach just thinking of Verlaine. It is not safe for women. I am still traumatized almost four months later and have not found the words to capture my experience until now, as I receive yet another invoice from the fire department—a monthly reminder that I was assaulted and that a piece of myself was taken at Verlaine that I will never get back.