Search Results for lied about a king
Musings from the laundromat: Laundry Lady returns and Pigeons Feeding Frenzy edition
She’s baaaack! One Sunday morning only, due to ‘scheduling’.
AND! ‘Don’t stop believing’ is on the radio.
All is right with this Sunday morning.
I made it abundantly clear last week to the manager that I missed my Laundry Lady. (She has a name, I choose not to use it here for the sake of her anonymity, not out of disrespect).
I hadn’t seen her in weeks! Although, to be fair, one of those weeks was due to me not attending Laundry Day.
Me: Is ____ ok?
Manager: Yeah! We’re down a person and ____ prefers to come in later.
Me: But … It’s my routine. I miss her.
Manager: (Laughs) You know what? I’m going to tell her that, because I don’t really do mornings.
I felt a little bad this morning when I saw who was opening. Like I had something to do with her schedule.
But, no, it just so happens something hung the manager up here until after midnight.
I guess I don’t have the pull I thought I did around here. (Joke).
I’m looking around and noticing the gender ratio … There’s 5 men vs one woman. That woman being me.
The funny thing I’ve noticed about guys doing laundry is … They hover.
They stand staring at the their chosen machines – guarding them?
It cracks me up.
A wash cycle takes half an hour, and the dryers run in 10 minute increments. Take a seat guys! The rainbow umbrella table is available!
So, I’m over in my nook and Laundry Lady just came over for a chat. (I think she might have missed me a little bit too.)
Asked me if I’d ever seen Twilight.
(She had just watched all the movies).
Have I seen Twilight? HA!
I gobbled up those pages faster than a pigeon with a French fry! Then saw the movies.
Speaking of pigeons.
It was my mum’s birthday this past week. We celebrated yesterday with a ‘mum and me’ day.
Went down to the river, ok, the casinos along the river, and had a wonderful lunch at Bubba Gump’s.
Here’s my mum’s plate with a few friends.
(SUBTITLES: What my mum says at the end is: “OK, that’s it. No, I’m sorry, but you’re just throwing it at me here.”)
Funny thing was, an employee came over after noticing the flock of feeders and said, “We ask you don’t feed the birds.”
My mum replied, “I’m not feeding them, they’re helping themselves.”
It was a great day.
And now I’m home and Sunday still feels perfectly right.
Hope yours does too!
Musings from the Laundromat: Teeth, TMI & Comforter Forgiveness
I think I must finally be forgiven for my comforter faux pas years ago.
(You can read about THAT here.)
Laundry Lady just came over to my little table carrying one and asked me, “Is this wet do you think, or just cold?”
Ha! Now I’m an official comforter advisor.
She has new teeth. I noticed last week. It’s so nice to see her smile.
As for glaucoma man, I was given quite an extensive account of what he called his ‘roto-router’ procedure at the hospital.
Apparently the nurses didn’t know what they were doing when removing his catheter and he’s still peeing blood.
I needed to know that at 8:15 in the morning. I really did.
He’s an odd duck. But, I would miss him if he wasn’t here.
It’s strange only lugging one laundry basket here.
I’m finding, in between missing my son, that there ARE some benefits to living alone.
Like, coming home and there not being dishes in the sink. Like, walking from the bathroom to my bedroom sans clothes.
I would say it’s cheaper shopping too, but considering I keep sending my bird money for food – that’s not quite true yet.
A man just came up to me and said, “You know, I don’t think there’s been a Sunday that I’ve been here that you haven’t.”
I have never seen this man, or his wife before in my life! Am I that oblivious when I’m laundering? Apparently so.
Well, laundry is dry (as was the comforter in my professional opinion) and it’s time to head home to my sleepy dog and bid Laundry Lady farewell.
Why Didn’t They Come Forward Sooner?
Standing at the work station counter sorting condiments. One knee against the bottom of said counter.
I feel a presence.
Then I feel a hand on my bottom.
“When are you going to share this?”
Shock. Startle. Freeze. “My butt?”
“No, THIS.” Hand shoved down the front of my pants and into my underwear.
Never did I focus so much on my knee and the feeling of the wood against it – I focused so much on my left knee and as the rest of me spiraled out of control and panicked, I felt safety in that grounding sensation.
I raised my son alone. Well, I had the help of my parents. A roof over my head and a mom that adored my bundle of joy.
I hated that I missed his first smile – first laugh. Hated that I had to work and miss all the good stuff.
But, it was necessary that I work to support him.
His, um, ‘Sperm Donor’ made it very clear when I announced my pregnancy that he wanted nothing to do with it.
To the point that “If you try for child support, I’ll quit my job and move in with my parents.”
I was also very young and acting out back then. We had both experimented quite thoroughly with drugs. I stopped … he didn’t.
I didn’t want such a person in my son’s life. My son didn’t deserve someone in his life that didn’t want to be there.
And as I’ve consistently pointed out to my son, it wasn’t a personal attack on him, because he didn’t KNOW him and REJECT him, he just didn’t want to be a father, period.
I didn’t take that out on the paternal grandparents however, and gave them an opportunity to be just that.
They didn’t want it either.
And there you have it. No paternal support. Not emotionally, not physically and not financially.
I bring all of that up so you realize how important keeping my job was to me. Sole provider.
I drove to the home I had at the time – a yacht.
I was shaken. Crying. One of my best friends happened to be outside on his boat.
Saw me – called me over. I bawled and shared everything.
We happened to know a lawyer.
I was pensive to say the least.
Terrified to lose my job and not be able to support my child, terrified to confront my assaulter.
But, I knew what he had done was so completely wrong and if it was that easy for him, probably other’s had been through it.
Time had passed and my lawyer recommended I wear the same color clothing as my eyes. “It makes you more believable.” Wait. What?? I was only going to tell the truth anyway.
Lawyers know what they’re doing. I complied.
I had already quit the job.
He was there.
He sat there – with a polystyrene cup over his nose and with his mouth, munching on it.
That’s how seriously HE took this. His assistant manager (Should mention ‘he’ was the owner of the entire company) silently scolded him. I found it extremely offensive and was already terrified to be in the same room with him. Assistant Manager was actually very kind to me the whole time I worked there and I like to believe was just as disgusted with his boss as I was.
I had to answer many questions.
I had to answer them in front of my predator.
“Did you wear a revealing Halloween costume?” “Have you been an actress?” (I was in a local murder mystery play). “You say on your resume you’re a published author, how is this true?” Me: “I’m in the library of Congress”.
“How many sexual partners have you had”
(Like that has ANY bearing on CONSENSUAL touching).
“Who is the father of your child?”
That’s where it stopped.
I didn’t want him involved.
Did not want someone unhealthy forced into interaction with my son.
Did not go to trial.
“Why do they wait?”
When you are assaulted, so much goes through your head.
Is it worth losing my job over, I really need my job.
Will anyone believe me over someone so prominent and powerful?
I’m going to embarrass their wife/partner.
I’ll be talked about.
I’ll have to face them.
Public defenders do their job, and I’m NOT putting them down. Because God forbid, I ever need one, I need them on my side.
But I’m pretty certain when a case comes up and they have to advocate for a guilty person, they don’t sleep well at night.
I hope they don’t anyway.
Because I was VERY credible and VERY violated and he did not go easy on me in that room.
Accusers. “WHY DIDN’T THEY COME FORWARD SOONER?” And I read this from WOMEN!!!!!!! Why?
Because it’s horrid. It’s embarrassing. Because your entire PAST is brought up.
YOU are treated like a slut.
Someone that ASKED for it.
That’s their job.
I’ve been through two rapes.
I’m not allowed to vote, because I’m a ‘legal alien’
So, I’m reading comments about ‘those women’ who are accusing and how disgusting they are. And feeling very angry.
I actually unfriended a very good friend not because of their political beliefs, but because they questioned ‘the accusers’ very insultingly. And I can’t handle that anymore.
I just can’t.
I AM broken.
But, I am not beyond repair.
I’ve made my life livable and made my life loveable.
I have fallen in love with someone and STILL support and love my son. Maybe I’m not as broken as I thought I was.
I numb myself, and am working on fixing that. Because I shouldn’t .
I degrade myself because I feel small. And I shouldn’t.
But the ‘why now’ thing … If I HAD kept an assault quiet, then years later heard my assailant on the news speaking so horribly about women – then denying any wrong doing, that would be a trigger for me. Then imagine that person could hold the highest office in the country. I would HAVE to come forward in the hopes of doing anything to try to stop that from happening.
Go easy on the “Why are they coming forward now?”
If you haven’t been through a rape kit – shut the fuck up. And if you haven’t felt like your job is on the line if you don’t put up with things, shut the fuck up.
I hate the vulgarity that I have used. But this is clearly a very emotional topic for me.
And I will say now, “Telly Telly” is going to be ‘he who shall not be named’s” downfall.
When I was small, I asked “May I please watch the Telly?” Television. And I’m pretty certain “The candidate” didn’t share THAT nickname with anyone outside of his circle.
I hope shudders went down his families spine when that phrase was uttered. Although, I think they knew all along.
Too much detail.
Too much dread with him.
PLEASE don’t vote for him.
Musings from the Laundromat: Jurrasic nap, Horrific drink & Rey edition
It’s warming up in the desert. Today my car advised me it was 52 degrees on the way to the laundromat @ 7:30 a.m. Seems like only yesterday when I was reading ’32 degrees.’
I’m not ready for it to warm up yet! Nooooo!
Actually, my first stop was not the laundromat, but to the Redbox to return Jurassic World. I was one of the few on the planet that didn’t go see that one in the theaters.
My son and I got comfy and with bowls of food began the film. I should point out, that he’d already seen it.
Me: Ug. I hate seeing movies for the first time with someone who’s already seen it.
Nic: I haven’t seen it a long time …
*Moments into the movie*
Nic: Ok, Pause it … Remember this part.
Me: (Pause, roll eyes). Are you going to do this the ENTIRE movie?
Nic: No, no.
Nic: Pause it! You know what I never noticed the first time?
Etc. Etc. Etc.
He needn’t have worried about giving me a play-by-play because I think I only saw 2/3 of it anyway. I fell asleep several times. (Sorry Star Lord.)
Earlier that day, Nic and I had gone grocery shopping.
Shopping with Nic always results in laughter – (and a bigger bill @ the checkout.)
This trip was no different.
Nic is quite the connoisseur of ‘unique’ beverages. $$$
He came across a fancy live probiotic, natural energy concoction and eagerly hurried off to purchase it after asking what aisle I could be found in upon his return.
I should have lied about the aisle.
Nic: Smell it.
Me: *standoffish glance*
Nic: It’s lavender and melon!
I acquiesced and gave the drink a sniff.
I wondered immediately 1) where was the lavender? 2) where was the melon? 3) why was it so fizzy and 4) if Nic could get his money back.
Nic: Take a sip!
So much was going through my head at this point – but mostly that I wanted to live. And then that if I DIDN’T take a sip, he was going to badger me for the balance of the shopping.
Now, have you ever left juice out and unrefrigerated and then accidentally sipped it?
This stuff tasted like prison hooch!
This was the beverage.
By the time we were checking out, we had two cashiers and one bag boy involved in the ‘dare’ of sniffing the drink.
The bag boy nailed it when he said it smelled like vinegar. One cashier told Nic to just down it. That wasn’t happening.
We ended up playing a game of ‘keep away’ with it the whole way home, and at home.
The bottle would appear sans lid in various places – like, my car, on the table pushed close to one of us, under the table and sneaked by each other’s noses.
We probably didn’t even need the movie, that ‘drink’ provided plenty of entertainment.
(I should probably apologize to the company now, I mean, I’m sure plenty of people stock up on their product and love it. It just wasn’t our cup of fizzy, fermented tea.)
OH! One more thing. I have a fish! Nic’s tropical fish had babies and a very brave and smart one managed to survive. I adopted the teeny tiny grey blob speck and named her Rey. (Nickname: Blobba Fett)
Here she is (Nic insists it’s a girl because of some fin thing? I’m trusting him on this one.) Get your magnifying glass out:
She’s in front of the blue thingy.
So there you have it! My weekend in a nutshell. Dryers are almost done so I’ll be bid you adieux and hope you all have a wonderful Sunday and a great week!