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This is a true story about how an invisible hand may have rescued me from death.

Years ago, I had an unbeknownst enemy who I regarded as a true friend. We'd been introduced by my roommate, and I had little reason not to trust him. We'd shared lively conversation and traveled in the same social circles; he was also employed as a bartender at a popular dance club where he always offered me drinks on the house, very much the gentleman!

All the while, little did I know that he'd been nursing a brooding resentment against me - regarding my roommate who he was insanely jealous of and romantically involved with at the time! This resentment festered in secret for months ... I had no idea.

One early evening, at the same nightclub where he worked, I stopped by the bar and accepted his offer of a complimentary glass of wine, my usual. I thanked him and walked off with the glass which I planned to sip slowly between dances. As it was early, and I hadn't danced yet, I did not take a sip, but proceeded to the stairwell that led to the disco area one floor down. It was deserted. The club hadn't filled up yet, and no one else was on the stairway at the time. I carried my glass of wine anticipating a fun, social evening, looking forward to dancing and meeting up with friends. About halfway down the stairs, I felt a sharp shove against my arm ... it felt exactly like a flesh-and-blood person had deliberately and forcefully shoved me ... the impact knocked the wineglass right out of my hand! There was no one else around to be seen.

The untasted wine spilt at my feet, but the wineglass itself didn't break. I picked it up and decided to return to the bar and request a refill. When the same bartender saw me approaching, he suddenly looked nervous and flustered ... like he'd seen a ghost! I apologetically explained that I'd dropped the previous glass and asked for a refill. What surprised me is that he made a grand display of opening a new bottle of wine and fetching a fresh glass. I assured him that refilling the former glass would be fine, but with a great deal of bravado, he insisted on the fresh glass. The evening proceeded without incident ...

Weeks later, I was shocked to hear that the bartender had confided to a coworker about how he'd tried to fatally poison me one night with a spiked glass of wine. The truth came out about his insane jealousy over my roommate and the seething hatred he hid. What I heard would also explain his nervous surprise when he saw me return to the bar that evening, empty glass in hand. It would also explain why he so carefully disposed of that first glass and made a grand show of pouring from a newly opened bottle. I think that if he really did try to fatally drug me, he had second thoughts afterwards. He had blurted out something about being so happy to see me when I returned to the bar that evening - he acted relieved as well as flustered. At the time, his behavior had puzzled me, but in retrospect, I think he may have had a change of heart.

Whether the attempted poisoning was just a rumor circulating amongst acquaintances, or whether it really was true, the fact remains that I actually did feel someone shove me on that stairwell. It was so real, I could feel the impression of the impact on my skin long after it happened.

I am so grateful to be alive!

Learn more about this author, Violet Fortune.
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