September 29, 2012

I wasn’t able to publish this page in its entirety with the video on YouTube, so I’m publishing it here.

I’ve said more than once that if the conglomerate doesn’t stop persecuting me and doing the other things that it’s been doing that I think that I will probably hit someone or destroy property of someone who has harassed or otherwise abused me and get arrested for that, be coerced into a mental hospital or otherwise declared mentally incompetent and forced to take a lot of dangerous, anti-psychotic psychiatric medication, or die from suicide or being murdered.  It doesn’t seem to me that my prediction about that is going in the direction of being proven inaccurate.

I’ve gone to the Global Thrift Store in Waltham a few times over the past several weeks.  I’ve been abused there, by some customers and some of the staff, with some coughing, sneezing, and nose-rubbing.  Once, a staffperson brought out the broom when she saw me.  I dealt with it each time that it happened, by saying “Please don’t do that again,” and confronting the lies and so on that would get told after that.

I figured that I needed to look for full-time work, or at least more part-time work.  I like doing the car auctions, although I get abused at those, also, and am hoping that that abuse will stop.  They’re a couple of times a week, and, if I thought I were going to live in Waltham more permanently or if I had a car, I might plan to keep doing those with whatever other work I could find.  I also figured that, since all of my official qualifications are for menial work or customer service, besides being able to type and answer the phone, I’d probably have to look for work in which I was dealing with a lot of people.  I usually like dealing with people, which is one of the positive reasons that I stayed in customer service for years.  However, I know that working with people in that capacity is going to result in people showing up where I work to abuse me; I’ve known that since 2010, when the abuse by what turned into the conglomerate expanded from the Internet and the media to being around me in Vermont.  In customer service, there’s only so much you can say back to a customer who abuses you, and if you don’t have a supportive manager, you’ll be subjected to a lot of rude treatment.  That was already true before the conglomerate happened.

After I’d been to that thrift store a few times, I asked someone who works there if they were hiring.  She said that she thought they would be hiring for October, and gave me the name of the manager and told me the days when I’d be likely to find him in the store.

I didn’t go back to talk to him right away; I wanted to think about it some more.  I did go back several days ago, and it seemed to me that the manager had both heard that I’d asked about applying to work there and didn’t want me to work there.

Here are the notes that I took then, on September 23, 2012:

–“Pop Star” shirt on a mannequin in front of the dressing rooms

In front of the table right next to the front door when you walk in:

–box that said “REACTOR” on it in red, and “Electronic Dartboard,” propped against the front of the table

On the same table:


–“Lewis & Clark” box

–box that said “POOL EYE:  Swimming Pool Alert:  Protection for your family.”

On the shelf next to that table:

–“HiHo Cherry-O,” next to Disney “Animal Tales”

Right in front of the entrance, there was a mannequin with a red dress.

When I went back yesterday, a lot of those things were gone from where they had been.

I went to the back of the store and started to look at the bags, since before I went there I admitted to myself that my beloved bag which I got as a donation and which has been very helpful for months has been exchanging its utility for sentimental value for some time.  However, the first thing that happened was that a guy who works there walked toward me and gave a big cough.  I looked over at him and said “Please don’t do that again.”  He said “What, cough?”  I said “Yes.”  He started to lie to me, saying “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” and I said “Don’t even lie to me; I’m not here to argue with you.  Do you not see me going through these things?  Does it seem to you that I have a really good life and that you have a reason to abuse me?  Leave me alone.”

I should say here that I think that bargain shopping is a good thing to do no matter how much money you have or don’t have.  However, bargain shopping because you like doing it and bargain shopping because you have to do it don’t have the same feeling to them, and that feeling gets enhanced when you’re being abused.

He continued to try to lie to me, and then to try to say that there was something wrong with me.  I said “Anywhere that’s away from me is where you should be.”

I saw him go over and talk to a man whom I’d never seen before, who I found out during the events leading up to what turned into a dramatic incident is the manager of the store.  After a minute I saw them laughing.  Then the guy who had coughed at me walked past me again, back to the part of the store where he’d been before he’d walked over to harass me.

I looked at the bags for a few more minutes before giving up on them.  It’s a large store, and I went to the other side of it and started looking at shirts.  I have three button-down shirts, two of which I can wear to work at the car auctions and one of which probably wouldn’t work for that.  I figured I should look at them, and maybe get some t-shirts.  While I was on that side of the store, the same employee who had coughed at me walked by me again.

A few people coughed at me while I was looking at clothes; I told them to stop and they did.

I heard a sneeze from several feet behind me.  When a young woman walked past me and I heard the sneeze again, and saw that she was someone who works at the store, I said to her “Don’t do that again.  I heard it the first time, and I don’t want you to do it again.”

When I went toward the dressing rooms, I heard a loud cough, looked over and saw that there were a couple of guys in the clothing section across from the dressing rooms, laughing.

Maybe I need to write a page that I republish for a while that says “I don’t care about the opinion of ignorant and/or mean people; however, I’m tired of being abused.”

When I got to the counter, I saw that there was a fur coat hanging on the wall behind the counter, the first thing that anyone approaching the counter would see.  The hanger that it was on said “MILTONS” on a gold or yellow background, and there was a handwritten sign on the coat that said “REAL FUR $99-“

There was someone at the counter before me.

Two men got in line behind the customer who was next after me; they looked to be in their teens or twenties and were laughing.

The manager gets a prize for the coat.  I’ve just created and named the prize.  It’s called the “I made Lena instantly livid after she’d been trying to modulate her reactions to my other behavior for quite a while” prize.

I asked the woman at the counter if the manager was there.  She said that he was.  I confirmed with her who it was.  I went to the back of the store, and saw him there.

I said “Can I speak with you for a minute?”

He said “I was just about to ask if I could speak with you.”

He went on to say that I seem to have some kind of problem, that there’s something wrong with my demeanor, that I had been rude to some of his staff when all they had done was cough.  While he said this to me, he rubbed his nose.  I told him “I saw how you responded to the fact that I’d showed interest in working here, and I took notes about it.  A lot of that stuff was gone today, and I wasn’t going to write about it, but I can still do that.”  He said “You do what you need to do.”  I tried to talk to him about the coat; he said “The coat’s going to sell.”  I said “I’d like you to remove it from where it is.”  He said “I’m not going to do that.”  I said “I don’t understand people like you; I’ve done nothing here except spend money and show interest in working here.”  I was angry but not yelling; he said “Why are you raising your voice?”  He said that a couple of times, and then he told me that I had to leave.

Since it’s a thrift store, it can take a long time to find clothes that I want to buy.  That’s even more true, trying to be conscious of color and the names and designs on the clothes, which I try not to obsess about but to be realistic about.  I had found a windbreaker, which I need because it’s now fall in Massachusetts and it has not only been raining but has been getting much colder, and a t-shirt; it had taken me more than an hour to find them.  I was about to put them down on the box next to the wall where he was standing when my self-control snapped and I threw them at him instead.  One or both of them were still on the hanger.  I don’t think that the hangers hit him, but I wish that people would stop abusing me.  I’m don’t want to hurt anyone.  He and some of his staff had been obviously trying to antagonize me;  there hadn’t been one time that I’d been at that store that I hadn’t been abused by either some of the staff or customers or both during each hour that I’d spend there.  I’d never spoken to him before, and the first time that I tried to do that, which was yesterday, he lied to me about it and told me to leave.

He walked to the front of the store and said to the staff at the counter “Call the police right now.”

I also walked to the front of the store and took the video that I’ve published here.

I left the store on my own and walked down the street.

I saw another store a few doors away and went into it, thinking that it was a good idea to do that since the police would probably be on their way and not feeling friendly toward me, after the manager of the Global Thrift Store had told them that I was “very violent.”

I called 911 and told them that I had been getting abused in a store and that the manager had then called the police on me, and that I knew that the police would be looking for me.  I said some of what had happened, specifically about the fur coat.

I was transferred to the Waltham Police.  I was still on the phone with the person who answered me from that station when two police officers walked into the store with the manager of the Global Thrift Store.  The manager said “That’s her.”  I said, immediately, “That store has been abusing me for weeks.”

One of the police officers talked to the manager of the thrift store, while I talked both to the woman that I had on the phone at the police station and the other police officer of the two who had shown up to talk to me after the thrift store manager had called them.  Both the woman on the phone and the police officer who was talking to me said “The police are in the store; talk to them.”  I said “I’m going to stay on this phone while you (the male police officer who was there in person) talk to me.  I want there to be a recording of what happens, and I know that these phone calls get recorded at the police station, and I also know that other people listen when I’m on the phone.”  The male police officer said “She’s going to hang up on you.”  I said “I hope she doesn’t.”

The male police officer asked me some questions about the Global Thrift Store.  I told him that I had been abused there.  The police officer said “Abused how?” and I started with saying that one of the employees had coughed at me.  The police officer said “He coughed at you?  That’s abuse?”  I said “Yes.”  He said “So if I coughed at you right now, that would be abuse?”  I said “Yes.”  During the conversation, he rubbed his nose.  I said “You rubbed your nose? Do you want to give your name?”  I still had the phone up to my ear, and he gave his name as “Barris” and his badge number as “110.”

He said “Are you taking any medication?”  I said “That’s not relevant to what happened.”  He said “It’s extremely relevant, because what you’re saying makes no sense.”

A few seconds after that, the other police officer, who had been talking to the Global Thrift Store manager, started talking to police officer who had been talking to me.  The thrift store manager was gone.  I guess that the woman from the police station had hung up the phone while I had still been talking to the first police officer, and probably she’d done that before I thought she did; while the police officers were talking, I said “Hello” into the phone and there was no answer.

The police officer who had been talking to me rubbed his nose again and said “She’s free to go?” and the other police officer said “Yes.”

The other police officer said “The manager doesn’t want you to go back; let things cool down for a while.”

Then he took my name and phone number and asked me where I was staying in Waltham.

When I left, and was on my way back to the shelter, police car #436, license plate #896 drove past me.

I am sure that most of the conglomerate heard about some of what happened yesterday, both from the reports at the police station or listening to the phone lines there, and from the fact that my own phone is tapped.  If the conglomerate media didn’t hear exactly what I said on the phone when I called the police myself, I’m sure that they heard about it from people who have tapped my phone.


Copyright L. Kochman, September 29, 2012 @ 12:59 p.m.