IT HAPPENED TO ME: A Drunk Stranger Pretended To Kidnap Me Because He'd Seen It In A Funny Movie

Borat came out seven years ago, but it was apparently fresh in the mind of the drunk jerk who, without warning, reenacted the Pamela Anderson kidnap-attempt scene on me at a bar.

Read more from Pia and her twin sister, Runa, over at our sister site, xoVain.

Remember when Borat stalked down the love of his life, Pamela Anderson? And he proceeded to shove a bag over her head while yelling “Pamela!” and carried her away? I call it being “Pamela'd," and it's now apparently a jackass move that men think they can actually pull off on unsuspecting females to get their attention.

It’s essentially meant to remove power from the girl who won’t let you buy her a drink at the bar. It’s the manifestation of a twisted logic that says, “This will make her laugh, and if I make her laugh she will do me.” But it's not funny. And I know because it happened to me a few weeks ago.

On a recent trip to Las Vegas, my friends and I were lounging around by the bar at Wet Republic. We were taking a much-needed break from the scorchingly hot sun, sipping on giant rum concoctions in these huge pool-friendly plastic sippy cups, chatting about our plans for the evening.

If you’ve ever experienced Vegas, you know the pool-party crowd is a mix of pretty much every type of dude you’ll ever see. There are the shy first-timers, the champagne poppers, the meatheads, the bros in shades, the bachelors, the ones who pursue anything that walks, the tipsy ones incessantly bopping to the beat, etc. One thing’s for sure: One of the above will talk to you. Not that I mind -- the Vegas scene is wonderful because everyone has one thing in mind: fun. It’s how some define fun that leads to questionable behavior.

I was about to order myself another rum thingy when a pretty big dude came over and started chatting with my group. Well, more like chatting at my group. He looked like a businessman who'd regressed back into a frat boy for the weekend, and he was doing that thing guys do when they’re talking really loudly about having a good time, pointing to each person and asking “ARE YOU HAVING A GOOD TIME? ARE YOU?” essentially putting on a show for his friends and everyone around him. We entertained it for a while, sipping on our drinks while he slammed shot after shot with his bros.

All was going well until I turned down a shot from him. He got all serious, looked me in the eye, and that’s when I knew the fun was over and he was going to try and get in my pants (or rather, my swimsuit).

He started engaging me in conversation, ignoring me when I said I have a boyfriend I love back home. I find that just doesn’t work anymore. The immediate reaction to a boyfriend is, “Well, where is he?” or the incredibly creative “Hey, what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.” I totally set myself up for that one, but that doesn’t make it any less annoying.

One thing about a drunk guy trying to seduce you is he always has a less-drunk guy in his group that senses your annoyance and tries to come to your rescue with a “Sorry about my friend, he’s drunk,” or a “C’mon man, leave her alone.” But beware: This is just meant to make you feel more comfortable, like someone has your back. Don’t be disarmed by the knight-in-shining-armor friend.

We engaged in some friendly banter for the next few minutes until ALL of his bros came over. There were at least 10 of them. They started messing around, shaking beers and spraying them at us, and we did not take that well at all.

That's when it happened. The big dude had a canvas bag with him that he and his bros were storing their flip-flops and whatnot in. He dumped it out, picked me up in a bear hug from behind, PUT IT OVER MY HEAD and yelled “Pamelaaaaa!”

The world went black, my friends started yelling, and I went APESHIT. The next few seconds seemed like eternity -- I couldn’t believe what was happening. I could hear his friends slamming shots and laughing hysterically while my shocked friends proceeded to try and beat the living hell out of this guy.

I decided to do as my daddy always taught me, so I kicked up my heel and went for his balls. Did that work? No, because I had horrible aim. Why? Because I had a sack over my head.

When one of my friends finally convinced him to put me down, he was still laughing, and I could hear his friends yelling “Pamelaaa” over and over again. I wanted to cower in a corner. Had it been one of my own guy friends, I might have laughed it off, but these were strangers, and I was scared.

It took a security guard to push the guy away while my friends cursed the heck out of his bros and I ripped the bag off to get a breath of fresh air. (The bag smelled like sweaty gym socks, by the way, and I wish I threw up in it before throwing it back at him.) It’s not cool, no matter how funny it might have looked from the outside of that bag.

After that, I keep my back to the bar at all times.