June 24, 2011
--"BCK realty doesn't have any properties in Montpelier that we manage that are for rent"
Today I called the Montpelier office of the BCK realty company. I gave my name to the person who answered the phone. She said "Hold on a minute," and a minute later, a different woman said "Can I help you?" I gave her my name and told her that I was interested in renting an apartment in Montpelier. She said "We don't have anything in Montpelier. I've worked here for 6 years, and we've never had anything in Montpelier."
The title of this story is what she finally ended up saying. Before that she said, as the conversation went on:
"We don't have anything in Montpelier."
"We don't manage any apartments in Montpelier."
and finally:
"BCK realty doesn't have any properties in Montpelier that we manage that are for rent."
She told me that they have apartments available in Barre; that was one of the first things that she said when she got on the phone. It took her several minutes to tell the truth; it was interesting how she herself spelled it out for me, after saying to me, in the rude tone in which people usually use the phrase "I'm not sure what part of this you're not understanding" and then "BCK realty doesn't have any properties in Montpelier that we manage that are for rent."
@2:22 p.m.
--The Price Chopper
The Price Chopper put a Cabot World's Best Cheddar cooler next to the section of the produce section where I used to buy hummus. I saw it for the first time yesterday, on my way back to Barre. The cooler is taller than I am, and it's filled with cans of whipped cream.
Next to the cooler is a large cardboard display that says "We are proud to offer 48 varieties of fresh, organic produce."
--Another Way in Montpelier
"Another Way" in Montpelier is supposed to be for psychiatric survivors. They have the Internet there. I was trying to use the Internet when, as has happened a lot since I started going there, men behind me started in with their harassment. It was almost as soon as I'd started on the computer. The one guy kept talking about "a slice of cheese" until I looked back and said "You know, I hear you; leave me alone."
Then began the cycle of him saying "I don't know what you're talking about," with me saying "Yes you do." He said "I was talking to him about the food budget." The argument continued until I called him a loser, told him to leave me alone and went back to the computer. He was incredibly excited to have gotten to me; that was obvious.
When I called him a loser, another man started saying loudly "That's enough. Name-calling is inappropriate. You can't call him a loser."
For some reason, the administrative assistant from the shelter that I've been staying at was there; I'd never seen her there before. She's made a lot of nasty comments around me in the past, at the shelter, whenever she gets a chance. Today, as usual, I tried to be polite but walked away when she started talking about "flood damage" for no reason.
She walked into the room and asked what was going on. The guy I'd been arguing with said I got mad at him when all he was doing was talking about the food budget for the whole place. I said "There's no reasont that any discussion of a food budget for a place this size would involve repeatedly talking about one slice of cheese."
The administrative assistant from the shelter said to the guy "Let's go talk about it." He and some of the other men, all of whom are clients of the shelter, went into the kitchen with her. One of the men was the guy in his 50's who's harassed me every day that I've been going there, and who responded to the first time I objected to it by telling a staffperson that I was "a problem."
After I felt that they'd been gone for too long for things to be going in a good direction for me, I went into the kitchen. On my way there, I heard the administrative assistant saying "I've been through it many times." I got into the kitchen, saw them all standing there in a circle, and said "What's going on?" The guy who'd started the whole thing with his "slice of cheese" fetish turned to me and said "Are you a vegan?"
I saw that, as is the pattern for the bullying, they were going to try to pretend that nothing had happened and that I'd gotten upset over nothing. I walked away and the guy followed me; we started arguing again. I sat back down at the computer and told him to leave me alone. He stood over me yelling, "NO! YOU'RE GOING TO APOLOGIZE TO ME FOR WHAT YOU SAID!" I said "LEAVE ME ALONE BEFORE I PUNCH YOU IN THE F---ING MOUTH!"
Somehow, others got him away from me, and in the midst of that I heard someone say that the director of Another Way had been called.
About a minute later, the director walked in the front door. He said "Let's talk about it," and then he said "We need a sprinkler system to distribute Haldol."
Haldol is an antipsychotic.
I heard the "slice of cheese" guy laugh from his seat on the couch behind me. I said "Wow," left my Weebly blog in the middle of a sentence, logged out, and left.
I don't think that I have any reason to believe that my writing this account of what just happened is going to make anything better for me at that place. When I wrote a few weeks ago about the Summer, 2011 issue of "Counterpoint" that had an article about the new Commissioner of Mental Health, I didn't notice that the title of that article was "New Commissioner Takes the Reins."
I still have my letter from her from before that issue of Counterpoint was published, in which she told me that she was sure that everyone who works at the Vermont State Hospital tries to give the best quality care to the patients. While I was at the hospital, I must have filled out hundreds of pages describing the non-stop harassment I experienced every day, and also at night, for 4 months. Her letter was in response to my appeal of the director of the hospital's decision that I was imagining all of the harassment, too. Being involuntarily medicated with Haldol was something that I was threatened with, for a while, by the doctor. All of my reports of being harassed there were included as part of my diagnosis that I was delusional and imagining it all.
The reason that I went to Vocational Rehabilitation before starting the Vermont Works for Women program was that the coordinator for the program had suggested it. If I had been willing to say that I was disabled due to a mental disability, I could have had a more or less permanent bus pass through Voc Rehab; then it wouldn't take me 3 hours to walk to Montpelier and 3 hours to walk back whenever I go to Another Way or to the Montpelier library to use the computers.
I don't mind walking sometimes, but it does take up a lot of time.
@3:19 p.m./edited @ 3:26 p.m. Copyright L. Kochman June 24, 2011
--"BCK realty doesn't have any properties in Montpelier that we manage that are for rent"
Today I called the Montpelier office of the BCK realty company. I gave my name to the person who answered the phone. She said "Hold on a minute," and a minute later, a different woman said "Can I help you?" I gave her my name and told her that I was interested in renting an apartment in Montpelier. She said "We don't have anything in Montpelier. I've worked here for 6 years, and we've never had anything in Montpelier."
The title of this story is what she finally ended up saying. Before that she said, as the conversation went on:
"We don't have anything in Montpelier."
"We don't manage any apartments in Montpelier."
and finally:
"BCK realty doesn't have any properties in Montpelier that we manage that are for rent."
She told me that they have apartments available in Barre; that was one of the first things that she said when she got on the phone. It took her several minutes to tell the truth; it was interesting how she herself spelled it out for me, after saying to me, in the rude tone in which people usually use the phrase "I'm not sure what part of this you're not understanding" and then "BCK realty doesn't have any properties in Montpelier that we manage that are for rent."
@2:22 p.m.
--The Price Chopper
The Price Chopper put a Cabot World's Best Cheddar cooler next to the section of the produce section where I used to buy hummus. I saw it for the first time yesterday, on my way back to Barre. The cooler is taller than I am, and it's filled with cans of whipped cream.
Next to the cooler is a large cardboard display that says "We are proud to offer 48 varieties of fresh, organic produce."
--Another Way in Montpelier
"Another Way" in Montpelier is supposed to be for psychiatric survivors. They have the Internet there. I was trying to use the Internet when, as has happened a lot since I started going there, men behind me started in with their harassment. It was almost as soon as I'd started on the computer. The one guy kept talking about "a slice of cheese" until I looked back and said "You know, I hear you; leave me alone."
Then began the cycle of him saying "I don't know what you're talking about," with me saying "Yes you do." He said "I was talking to him about the food budget." The argument continued until I called him a loser, told him to leave me alone and went back to the computer. He was incredibly excited to have gotten to me; that was obvious.
When I called him a loser, another man started saying loudly "That's enough. Name-calling is inappropriate. You can't call him a loser."
For some reason, the administrative assistant from the shelter that I've been staying at was there; I'd never seen her there before. She's made a lot of nasty comments around me in the past, at the shelter, whenever she gets a chance. Today, as usual, I tried to be polite but walked away when she started talking about "flood damage" for no reason.
She walked into the room and asked what was going on. The guy I'd been arguing with said I got mad at him when all he was doing was talking about the food budget for the whole place. I said "There's no reasont that any discussion of a food budget for a place this size would involve repeatedly talking about one slice of cheese."
The administrative assistant from the shelter said to the guy "Let's go talk about it." He and some of the other men, all of whom are clients of the shelter, went into the kitchen with her. One of the men was the guy in his 50's who's harassed me every day that I've been going there, and who responded to the first time I objected to it by telling a staffperson that I was "a problem."
After I felt that they'd been gone for too long for things to be going in a good direction for me, I went into the kitchen. On my way there, I heard the administrative assistant saying "I've been through it many times." I got into the kitchen, saw them all standing there in a circle, and said "What's going on?" The guy who'd started the whole thing with his "slice of cheese" fetish turned to me and said "Are you a vegan?"
I saw that, as is the pattern for the bullying, they were going to try to pretend that nothing had happened and that I'd gotten upset over nothing. I walked away and the guy followed me; we started arguing again. I sat back down at the computer and told him to leave me alone. He stood over me yelling, "NO! YOU'RE GOING TO APOLOGIZE TO ME FOR WHAT YOU SAID!" I said "LEAVE ME ALONE BEFORE I PUNCH YOU IN THE F---ING MOUTH!"
Somehow, others got him away from me, and in the midst of that I heard someone say that the director of Another Way had been called.
About a minute later, the director walked in the front door. He said "Let's talk about it," and then he said "We need a sprinkler system to distribute Haldol."
Haldol is an antipsychotic.
I heard the "slice of cheese" guy laugh from his seat on the couch behind me. I said "Wow," left my Weebly blog in the middle of a sentence, logged out, and left.
I don't think that I have any reason to believe that my writing this account of what just happened is going to make anything better for me at that place. When I wrote a few weeks ago about the Summer, 2011 issue of "Counterpoint" that had an article about the new Commissioner of Mental Health, I didn't notice that the title of that article was "New Commissioner Takes the Reins."
I still have my letter from her from before that issue of Counterpoint was published, in which she told me that she was sure that everyone who works at the Vermont State Hospital tries to give the best quality care to the patients. While I was at the hospital, I must have filled out hundreds of pages describing the non-stop harassment I experienced every day, and also at night, for 4 months. Her letter was in response to my appeal of the director of the hospital's decision that I was imagining all of the harassment, too. Being involuntarily medicated with Haldol was something that I was threatened with, for a while, by the doctor. All of my reports of being harassed there were included as part of my diagnosis that I was delusional and imagining it all.
The reason that I went to Vocational Rehabilitation before starting the Vermont Works for Women program was that the coordinator for the program had suggested it. If I had been willing to say that I was disabled due to a mental disability, I could have had a more or less permanent bus pass through Voc Rehab; then it wouldn't take me 3 hours to walk to Montpelier and 3 hours to walk back whenever I go to Another Way or to the Montpelier library to use the computers.
I don't mind walking sometimes, but it does take up a lot of time.
@3:19 p.m./edited @ 3:26 p.m. Copyright L. Kochman June 24, 2011