The Dream

That dream I had during the day, while sleeping on the couch, was interesting. Each element of the dream pulled forth something of my past and present life, intermingling the events. Like the teen, who wanted to talk to me, then tried to assault me.

This reminds me of the event at True Value, when they were located by Albertsons. I went in there frequently, BS'ed with employees, for years. Until one day, the employee who staffed the postal outlet in the store, Darrel, pulled me aside, when I was seeking to get stamps. He was urgent, looked unkempt and unslept and said he had to talk to me immediately out back.

I didn't know the guy, outside of chit chat inside the store, which sometimes was about the cat stuff I do. So I figured it would be something about cats he needed done. He finished serving the people in line at the postal outlet inside this hardware store, owned by a local big wig, a county commissioner also active in the local Democratic party scene.

But, outside, out back of the store, my jaw dropped in disbelief as this man outlined his need: he claimed he needed photographs of himself in his underwear or in the nude, for an army reunion and wanted me to go with him to some lake out in Kings Valley, in the dark, that night after work. My mind was racing as he outlined his desire. I figured he planned on raping me way out there, or handing me off to someone he owed a debt to, maybe his drug dealer, to be raped and maybe killed. Nobody normal asks a stranger to do such a thing. But I wanted him caught and gave him no reply, said I'd decide and let him know. I was so angry and stunned I wanted to punch him into the ground right there. This was a massive betrayal of customer/employee relationship, criminal.

I drove off, intending to find a friend, either a bus driver friend I knew or a security guard I knew, see if they'd be willing to set up a sting of some sort on this guy. But I became too angry and outraged and immediately turned around and stormed back into the store to yell at this man then to also tell the store manager.

Reaction on his part was a smirk.

Reaction on the part of the store manager, who is the son or son-in-law of the county commissioner, was dismal. At first, he claimed he would deal with this, first by calling Mr. Dixon, the store owner, then the police. The employee in question did confess that he did indeed say what he said, and pull me out of line while he was working the postal outlet in the store, to do this.

No measures were taken against him, however. The guy was not fired and the manager called me back to tell me he'd contacted the Corvallis police chief, then Pam Roskowski, whom he said he knew well, to see if this employee of his had any sexual deviance in a police record.

According to him, Pam Rowskowski told him I was a nutcase and he and the Dixons should not worry about consequences for what his employee had done, since I was nutcase. I told him I was afraid for my safety from his employee and he told me, in sarcastic manner, to seek help for that because it was a mental health issue.

Real me don't behave like this. Real men would have taken this guy out into an alley and beat the crap out of him, to discourage him from ever behaving this way again and to make a statement in defense of a customer, a woman, just trying to buy stamps to have to put with this bullshit dickhead.

Store employees defended him with words like "he's a great guy", as if because he was "such a great guy" I should have let him do whatever he wanted to me--as a sacrificial lamb. Like my aunt defending my father's behavior toward me, "because he's your father, he can do what he wants to his own child." I'm so sick of that cowards' excuse.

And it was probably illegal for Roskowski to discuss a person, me, like that. I'd had police contact numerous times, when being hauled off to mental hospitals. So the cops knew my name and hated me. They hated the mentals, sometimes harrassed us for sport. But I don't believe they're supposed to discuss people like that to other people.

I never voted for Jay Dixon again. In fact, when I see him or his son/son-in-law, whichever it was, who managed that store, I flip them off. It was a pile of bullshit I went through from one of his employees, criminal sexual harrassment. Unbelievable.

I should have just gone out to that lake in the dark with him, and with a loaded gun, and shot the asshole to death if he tried one thing. You don't invite a stranger out to a lake late at night to have that stranger shoot photos of yourself in your underwear for an army reunion. That is not a normal thing to ask of a stranger. This guy knew I'd been in the mental health system, and figured I was stupid or had such low self-esteem I would do it under pressure. My fate out there that night would likely have been rape and possibly death.

I had a little celebration when I heard their damn True Value store went under and closed. I was overjoyed! They soooo deserved to go under.

I suppose I'm still bothered somewhere in my mind by this incident also, that got buried in a cascade of just such events in my life, perpetrated upon me because I was powerless and voiceless. I suppose I must still think about it or I wouldn't still be dreaming about it, in various ways.

I should have dealt better with it then. I should have sued the mother fuckers. As a result, I never again voted for a Democrat running for office in Benton County. And I never will again.

Dixons, you still owe me over that one. A public apology would be real nice.

I think a good way to react to that man's obscenity, would have been to begin laughing hysterically. Then, to march right back into the business and file a complaint about him with his boss, then to file a complaint about his behavior with the Post Office, since he must have technically been a postal employee too, to work the outlet there in the store. That would have been the best way to handle it. Well, hindsight.