Another Sick Ass Small Town America Story.

I post occasionally on another writers forum. That is until I found myself blocked for 30 days or 120 days, 30 again and so on.

I have 80 some more days punishment left on that forum. I've more or less forgotten about it anyway.

Ta Da! Ran across this website through a book about the hippy scene with a nod of the old smokarooni in regards to and highly recommending it.

Few minutes ago found that there is a writers forum here.

My banishment from the other forum is rooted in nothing legit. I managed to piss a couple of panty asses off so as a result they make cronic complaints against me.

It's been pretty fun as a matter of fact.

Anyway, screw them (pardon my French)!

For the past couple of weeks I have been experiencing a bout with depression and an ugly bleak sadness.
I have until recently found myself employed in a restaurant kitchen with a group of callous, rotten pigs.
A 74 year old filthy sexual deviant named Norm. From what I scratched from the mother fucker he has basicly lived the life of a rotten two bit thug. At such a late stage in life and more than half crippled he poses no phsyical threat only psychological.
To have spent four and a half months in the kitchen with this cocksucker is to have slowly realized the depth of my contempt for his greasy ass.
I can continue this tomorrow... It's truly a freaky/depressing/true story.
I became depressed and sad working at this place as a result of circumstances bringing to my surface deep rooted feelings of aloneless.

 

At first the sex talks and unfunny penis and masturbation jokes meant nothing. Just another minor background annoyance like the rest of the shit sounds and intruding unpleasentness experienced in such an environment a person may find himself in for the sake of acquiring funds.
After awhile I started noticing things about the stinking old fuck. His 26 year old "girlfriend" he claimed to have was actually a crack addicted prostitute and was one of five or six who went in and out of that shithole later in the day shortly before closing when not many people were around.
The rotten cocksucker was and still is pimping the pathetic whores.
I know because he once flashed me some tit shots on his cell phone. Later he flashes them to a 17 year old fucked up excuse for a teenager who worked there for awhile and says to the kid... "Want some of that? It won't even cost you anything."
The kid says "Oh hell no!"
So what else is new you might be thinking. Another dirty ass cheap loser. A creepy bum!
Thats not what made me feel sad and down hearted. Something else happened that truly fucked with my emotions.
I'll write about it later. Maybe some of you will feel the same way I felt (And still feel).

 

I'm enjoying reading your 'journal' here. Keep it up! I've read of similar situations before but luckily haven't experienced them. Your writing is therapeutic and for your readers too. 'There, but for God, go I...'

 

*applause* continue man!

 

Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?

 

The cook in this place started a couple weeks after me. First impression was that she was a mean ignorant person. A hillybilly "woman" from Georgia who bragged about excessive alcohol and meth use.
I found ways of balancing and coping with the situation by remaining on a certain level.
I would sit there and listen to lie after lie after lie without saying much.
Ugliness from several of the people employed there. Compairing everything and everyone around them to their owns lives, mistakes and fuck up's.
I'm basicly a quiet person. Somewhat reserved and awkward in some situations. I felt nervous in this place.
I don't believe in lying or being deceitful.

 

I bet those people have low energy levels , no wonder you must feel awkward and out of place.

 

It was a depression place. Nasty people full of twisted unreasonable hatred, crazy in an ugly unhappy way.

I tried to find reasons to like them at first. All women working there other than me and the rotten bastard I came to consider a creep and bum.

They treated people with the most uncalled for disrespect. I worked my ass off and carried quite a load without complaint. I like to work hard!

He would hire new waitresses and time and again I noticed the one's who had worked there for awhile being nasty and jealous towards them. After a couple of days, the new person would be fired. Time and again I watched this happen. On a couple of occasions the new person would start to tear up and cry a bit.

It truly began to wear on my conscience and began making me feel sad and a bit dirtied.

At least two times I had an oppourtunity to talk to a couple of women outside who had been dumped on in such a way. I'd say something like, "Man, it has nothing to do with me. I'm just working here for awhile myself." It was a crock of shit and I'm proud to say that I am a decent enough person to have recognized it as being wrong and unfair.

To Rafaela; Yeah, I'd say some did have low energy levels. Misdirected energy as well. Some even possessed self hatred.

The old man had a most peculiar attutude towards women. It was sickening. It went beyond words spoken in jest and struck me as being a tactic to demean and make certain people feel small and inferior.
He was wacked on prescription oxi-contin and booze. Quite a few times I noticed the most wicked and mean look in his glassy eyes.

Personally, I find myself at times feeling concerned for others. I truly do not like seeing people treated unfairly.

A couple of weeks ago I came to realize that what was happening with me was I began seeking an outlet for simply expressions of love.

A woman named Angel began there shortly after me. She was I'd say 37 and attractive. As a matter of fact it was with her I first noticed how the others treated the new people.
The fat woman had her doing the shit work everyone else had neglected to do.
I helped her out on a couple of occasions mentioning that I considered it unfair.
I fumbled at making small talk and became flustered when she flashed her eyes at me a few times. I liked her! She was uptight in her own way and experiencing financial and relationship troubles yet I never saw her act mean or hateful. She looked sad every now and then and I noticed it.

 

Eventually I began to have strong reason to believe not only was that despicable excuse for a human being running whores out of the place, he also attempts to coerce and persuade certain female employess to participate as well.

Angel once asked me what I thought the old bum meant when he asked her (when no one else was around) if she would be his "girlfriend in name only".
"I don't know. Sounds like some crazy shit to me."

Later a young woman began working there. She was 19 years old with the emotional maturity of a 10 year old.
Her name was Lauren, she called herself Lauren 420. She was a very insecure and shy girl. Gullible, lonely, angry and confused. She touched my heart in this drab depressing place full of jaded, ugly losers.
She smoked a lot of weed. Too much in my opinion. She always had a joint to share with whoever was around.

We worked together my last few weeks. I'd give her a lift home every now and then.
She said things like, "Man sometimes when I don't smoke weed I feel like shit."
"That's because your smoking too much Lauren. It goes away after awhile if you stop smoking so much. Try rolling your J's a little smaller."
She told me about the time she went over to the hillbilly cooks place and the bitch wanted her to do meth.
"Your not getting into that shit are you Lauren? Nothing wrong with a little weed but that shit will fuck your life up bad!"

The rotten old man began making cracks and calling her dumb. I spoke up. "She's actually a very smart person." She giggled in a nervous way. "You are Lauren, your a smart person."

The hillbilly cooks cowardly boyfriend began hanging around the place at night. Cracker started pestering the girl and calling her a dickhead.
"Why do you allow people to talk to you that way Lauren?"
He shut up and no longer played that shit when I was around. A cowardly hillbilly fuck. I felt like punching him out.

The old man begins making sexual comments to her relentlessly. Vile unfunny shit. I began to question to myself why a 74 year old so called man would speak to a 19 year old girl in that manner.

She lived with her mother. The old pervert eventually realized there were no men in her life who may oppose the way he treated her.
There was very serious sexual harassment happening in that place as if there are no laws prohibiting it.

I overheard the old pig ask her if she would like to get together with someone he knew.
Once I passed by when no one else was around and overheard the glassy eyed old perv saying to a creepy looking fucker, "She's only 19 years old."
It began to seriously bother me. Was the pig trying to punk her out into prostitution? Sure as fuck seemed that way!

I felt so sorry for her. More than a few times I cried at night.

Once when we were working I said to her regarding the constant male bashing by two of the nasty waitresses. "Lauren, don't believe all the shit these people say about men being rotten. There's some damn good guys out there. You just have to find them."

One day after work the both of us went to the park, fed the geese and smoked a joint. I liked her!

There were things I wanted to say but didn't get the chance.
I wanted to tell her if she wished to meet good people she needed to do good things. Go to art galleries and stuff like that. If you hang around 39 year old white trash such as Lynn (the cook) you may become as fucked up as she is.
And she was a nasty white trash. Alcoholic, meth addicted pathological lier. She would come off with the most insane lies about people. Stories of having been held captive for a month in a cabin and beaten yet offered no explaination as to why she did not call the cops.
On and on and on. Freaked out stories of being victimized time and again in the most brutal of ways.

 

One day the old creep says to me, "That damn Lauren. 19 years old and pregnant."
My response, "Yeah, makes me feel sad. Christ she acts like a kid sometimes."

Later in the day the psychotic mother fucker makes loud remarks in front of everyone about her being "knocked up!".

Another time the hillbilly bitch says, "Damn, if I ever found out I was pregnant again I'd commit suicide."

I'm thinking, what a bunch of rotten bastards!

Later the same day the old creep badgers the girl. I noticed her crying about it.
"Don't let that old bum get to you Lauren. He's just a crazy old fucker. A rotten old man pissed off because you're young and he's old. You have your entire life ahead of you."

"He can talk to his fucking whores that way!" She says.

 

awesome stuff

 

The internet enables people to break loose of the isolation sometimes experienced in life. At one time friendships on a localized level was required. Or perhaps a typewriter sometimes used in a manic way served the purpose of personal expression or a sort of exorcism of those freaky situations in life which acculate.

I wandered upon this site a few days ago during a time when there was really no one to communicate with regarding one of those things. And it feels sort of strange to sit in front of a keyboard and type on plastic keys and with the click of a button instantly publish whatever the emotional energy brings to the surface of a persons being instead of holding in your hands a sheet of paper pulled from an old smith/corona typewriter.

To me it seems rather strange at times, this method of communicating with people. I oftentimes feel much more at ease interacting this way than directly in everyday situations.

Good thing or bad thing? I guess it's good and bad.

I've lived a sort of offbeat existance over the years. I'm not like most of the people I find myself around sometimes. It's all a matter of terrain really. Some cities I feel as if a great burdon of oppression has been lifted from my shoulders. Los Angeles for example.

In other places I have an overwhelming sense of feeling so out of place at times it becomes discouraging and disheartening.
I have very little if anything in common with the average beer drinking, divorced, wasted fuckers I find myself dealing with.
I have never fallen through the common trap doors although sometimes I find myself associating out of necessity with those who have.
I am proud of my sense of personal individuality and refusal to compromise my own sense of self in order to go with whatever current flow.

 

On one occasion later in the day when not many people were in the restaurant several prostitutes were sitting in the dining area.

Angel says to me about one in particular "Must be one of Norm's girlfriends in name only."

I ask her if she wanted to know what I think he meant by it, "He was referring to prostitution. Whoring."

Nervously she tells me that she considers herself better than that.

I told her I noticed the old man playing the same shit with Lauren a couple of times and it bothered me because she seems to be a gullible person at an age when people sometimes make fucked up mistakes in life.

Later as we were both clocking out, "Angel, I think you're a better person than that too!"

Man she smiled me in a way that made me feel good. I felt as if I said something right!

 

Check this out everybody! I'm using a library computer. A few minutes ago I stepped outside for a minute to drag on a smoke and I noticed two women walking up the sidewalk.

It was one of the women who worked at the nasty little restaurant for a couple of days.

We exchanged greetings and I told her I was fired several days ago for calling the bastards up on the way they treat people.

She tells me that nasty old man was trying to get her in his Jucuzzi.

He's a creepy old fucker I said. He runs whores out of that place and hires women he thinks he wants to involve.

 

So what do you guys think about the sordid, perverse situation I've described?

The past couple of days a lifting of the resulting emotional low has occured.

An ugly place.

I called the cops on the spit bag degenerate old man and told them of the reasons I have to believe the god damn despicable crippled fruit runs whores out of that nasty filthy little restuarant and hires women as waitresses with intent of possible involving them in a most depressing situation.

And when a women would not go along with his vile and disrespectful come on's, they got shit on!

I spoke to a female detective with vice and mentioned my concerns.

It's up to them to deal with whatever that mother fucker is into.

I'm not sure if I finished the story. I suppose I've written enough about it. Pathetic thing is, it's an all to common occurence. An ugly,vile example of nasty street level trash lacking a sense of conscience or decency.

I've met and known many people over the years, good and bad. I'm sure I'll meet many more before I embark on that big blast into the outer realm. These depressing bastards were the most despicable, alcoholic, heartless fucking cowards I've ever had the misfortune to smell.

Me? Well, shit happens!

What the fuck was a nice vegetarian like me doing in a slimy fucking piss pot like that anyway?

Over and out! Be cool! Everyone aboard ship well...

 

Wow... it seems like you really don't belong in that town, place, wherever. If it's making you feel like that, something has to change. I don't want to seem like I'm trying to preach, because I'm not, but I kind of know how you feel, only not on such an extreme level. Places that seem to be overly infested with backwards rednecks are not healthy or good or anything. The anecdotes were really captivating, though. I hope that old guy gets caught and locked up or whatever.

 

Not at all does your message sound like preaching. Thats what I concern myself with at times. The thought that an expression of an opinion may seem patronizing.

Thanks for the response!

 

Thanks for the oppourtunity to relate this story to total strangers. It was a nasty time that happily is past yet will never be forgotten.

An ordeal which stirred emotions yet offered a sort of re-awakening resulting in my own personal beliefs to be placed in perspective instead of becoming distorted and confused.

Good intelligent people on board this site. And that makes all the difference in the world.

 

Thanks to all who may have read this story I posted a couple of weeks ago!

The entire situation was a emotional drain contrasting completely who and what I am as a human being.

I no longer work at the trashcan described and have since bounced back to my usual/unusual self.