The first weekend of selling season.
So let me tell you about my weekend. None of it really seemed like much at the time, but now in the light of a Monday morning and unexpected repercussions, I kind of just want to stand on top of a building and scream "FUCK THE WORLD!"
The first one I almost thought was funny. Outside of the Pagan Pride Day, we had protesters.
There was only two of them: a man holding a sign (something about burning in hell) and shouting bible verses and a woman handing out pamphlets about how there was only one god and if you didn't agree with that he'd be very upset with you. Now, I don't care how many gods you think there are so long as you don't seek out people who've got a different count than you and stand outside their gatherings screaming that they're wrong.
This was the first time I'd ever seen someone protest someone else's religious service, so I thought it was just an example of some people having too much time on their hands and not an example of how the world thinks it's acceptable to behave. (if you're worried that this post is going to end with the conclusion "Aren't Christians horrible?" don't worry. Some Pagans will also be asshats before the weekend's out. For example, I'm about to troll.) I went up to the protesters and said in my best fangirly voice, “Oh my gods! Bigots! I didn’t know you really existed! Can I get a picture?” In their defence, the one who wasn’t actively waving a sign and quoting scripture did agree to trade my right to photograph them for a pamphlet about why I was going to hell. (Which had the same graphic design as the Obama campaign, oddly enough.)
Also on Saturday, there were these two little shits who kept coming by our shop and harassing all the vendors, just the usual "Oooh, you guys are witches are you gonna put a spell on me, here are your warts?" things that close-minded children think are funny. They were about twelve and fourteen, so there was very little that people felt safe to say when telling them off.
They ask if we're witches, I answer that we're not, and one of them starts telling me this story about how she saw "a real witch once." She describes seeing an old woman with one large eye and a hunchback walking around in a graveyard. I didn't really believe her, but I answer as if I did that having a large eye was only a physical deformation and had nothing to do with religion or content of character. I went on to say I myself enjoyed picnicking in graveyards and photographing the headstones, but that didn't make me a witch.
At this point, they had both had been going on about how were weren't really witches, we were liars, and we were losers for some time now, so I was having trouble keeping my temper with her.
I sort of lost my temper with one, and then Willow lost her temper with the other.
As I watched, one of them tried on a ring, grabbed the price tag, twisted it in her fingers and ripped it off of the ring. I, trying to keep my voice level because this is where I bloody work and a certain level of professionalism can help with dealing with obnoxious people, ask her "Please don't rip off the price tags."
She says, "I didn't!"
I reply, "Please don't lie to me." I probably should not have said that, even though she did. She leaves in a huff and her sister tells me that she's autistic and therefore I'm a horrible person for accusing her of lying and then leaves herself. They come back again, spew another round of insults at us, and says it's horrible that we're lying saying that we're witches when we're not. After over an hour of them coming and going and insulting us each time, Willow asked them to leave the shop because she feared she might lose her temper.
They then paced behind our shop for several minutes mocking Willow, chanting "I'm gonna lose my temper, I'm gonna lose my temper! Until Willow turned around in her seat and shouted something to the effect of "leave me alone!" and they ran off screaming. So, in the end, she did.
Then there was the guy bitching about being friend-zoned by a woman he 'owned', but no one took him seriously anyway and the old woman, hobbling around on her cane and screaming profanities, mostly amounting to "fucking freaks" at the people at the Pagan Pride. I barely count those two because they were each escorted by a group of embarrassed relatives trying to get them to shut up. But there were children there, happily playing with ribbons and dancing on the grass. You shouldn't scream profanities at children who aren't doing anything wrong.
Sunday was actually pretty nice, or so I thought at the time. No protesters, no rude children, just some people being overly friendly in the way we're apparently supposed to put up with because at least they aren't screaming "fucking freaks" at us.
The only thing that really happened on Saturday was that someone came up behind Willow and grabbed her. Which is just freaking horrible, Willow was working, she didn't see the the woman and she came up from behind her and took a firm grip of Willow's shoulders. Willow screamed out in surprise, stood up, spun around, and asked who this person was.
The woman who grabbed Willow expressed her dismay that Willow didn't recognize her and that [i]Willow treated her so badly.[/i]
Let's just leave out what it usually means when a stranger grabs a woman in today's society. Let's leave out that Willow spends way too much of her own time guarding her little sister because of trauma from a similar (if somewhat more extreme) situation. Let's leave out why it is or is not okay to grab someone from behind without warning and focus on the fact that this woman (who I later learned is named Marilyn) was offended that Willow didn't appreciate being grabbed from behind by someone she didn't recognize.
I wouldn't have even thought that was noteworthy (which is sad in it's own way, someone can grab a person at work, frighten them, and their own sister shrugs it off as "wow, why do people do this all the time? It's rude.") if Marilyn hadn't written Willow this morning, told her how offended she was that a pagan sister in arms could possibly be so rude to her, and that she was going to boycott our store and tell all of her friends to do the same.
This has started a dialogue which is still going on, largely because you can't block people on Facebook. Apparently, Marilyn was very insulted when other people asked her if someone tried to rob Willow (given that there were robberies the day before, everyone was on edge) and why she had screamed, and is giving Willow a hard time about how Willow's done this horrible thing to her.
I'm really freaking out because I keep thinking about the people who say that being labeled sex offenders has ruined their life, as if what they did [i]didn't[/i] ruin the lives of the people they did it to.
Fuck, when I finally spoke up about being abused, the guy who did it threw a pity party for himself about how (when I didn't even fucking press charges, he didn't need to get a lawyer, he isn't on any list of sex offenders even though that precisely what he is and I was fucking underage; I just told him I didn't want him to come to my house or contact me again) I ruined his life. Well, years later I'm still fucking mental, I still cry and scream if someone touches me, I'm still afraid every time there's someone behind me I can't see that I'm going to get raped, I still start crying so hard I drool if I see so much as a photograph of someone in a sexual situation; so I think it's safe to say you ruined mine too.
And I can't help but see that every time someone says "you're being upset about this is making me look bad."
What's wrong with people?
The first one I almost thought was funny. Outside of the Pagan Pride Day, we had protesters.
There was only two of them: a man holding a sign (something about burning in hell) and shouting bible verses and a woman handing out pamphlets about how there was only one god and if you didn't agree with that he'd be very upset with you. Now, I don't care how many gods you think there are so long as you don't seek out people who've got a different count than you and stand outside their gatherings screaming that they're wrong.
This was the first time I'd ever seen someone protest someone else's religious service, so I thought it was just an example of some people having too much time on their hands and not an example of how the world thinks it's acceptable to behave. (if you're worried that this post is going to end with the conclusion "Aren't Christians horrible?" don't worry. Some Pagans will also be asshats before the weekend's out. For example, I'm about to troll.) I went up to the protesters and said in my best fangirly voice, “Oh my gods! Bigots! I didn’t know you really existed! Can I get a picture?” In their defence, the one who wasn’t actively waving a sign and quoting scripture did agree to trade my right to photograph them for a pamphlet about why I was going to hell. (Which had the same graphic design as the Obama campaign, oddly enough.)
Also on Saturday, there were these two little shits who kept coming by our shop and harassing all the vendors, just the usual "Oooh, you guys are witches are you gonna put a spell on me, here are your warts?" things that close-minded children think are funny. They were about twelve and fourteen, so there was very little that people felt safe to say when telling them off.
They ask if we're witches, I answer that we're not, and one of them starts telling me this story about how she saw "a real witch once." She describes seeing an old woman with one large eye and a hunchback walking around in a graveyard. I didn't really believe her, but I answer as if I did that having a large eye was only a physical deformation and had nothing to do with religion or content of character. I went on to say I myself enjoyed picnicking in graveyards and photographing the headstones, but that didn't make me a witch.
At this point, they had both had been going on about how were weren't really witches, we were liars, and we were losers for some time now, so I was having trouble keeping my temper with her.
I sort of lost my temper with one, and then Willow lost her temper with the other.
As I watched, one of them tried on a ring, grabbed the price tag, twisted it in her fingers and ripped it off of the ring. I, trying to keep my voice level because this is where I bloody work and a certain level of professionalism can help with dealing with obnoxious people, ask her "Please don't rip off the price tags."
She says, "I didn't!"
I reply, "Please don't lie to me." I probably should not have said that, even though she did. She leaves in a huff and her sister tells me that she's autistic and therefore I'm a horrible person for accusing her of lying and then leaves herself. They come back again, spew another round of insults at us, and says it's horrible that we're lying saying that we're witches when we're not. After over an hour of them coming and going and insulting us each time, Willow asked them to leave the shop because she feared she might lose her temper.
They then paced behind our shop for several minutes mocking Willow, chanting "I'm gonna lose my temper, I'm gonna lose my temper! Until Willow turned around in her seat and shouted something to the effect of "leave me alone!" and they ran off screaming. So, in the end, she did.
Then there was the guy bitching about being friend-zoned by a woman he 'owned', but no one took him seriously anyway and the old woman, hobbling around on her cane and screaming profanities, mostly amounting to "fucking freaks" at the people at the Pagan Pride. I barely count those two because they were each escorted by a group of embarrassed relatives trying to get them to shut up. But there were children there, happily playing with ribbons and dancing on the grass. You shouldn't scream profanities at children who aren't doing anything wrong.
Sunday was actually pretty nice, or so I thought at the time. No protesters, no rude children, just some people being overly friendly in the way we're apparently supposed to put up with because at least they aren't screaming "fucking freaks" at us.
The only thing that really happened on Saturday was that someone came up behind Willow and grabbed her. Which is just freaking horrible, Willow was working, she didn't see the the woman and she came up from behind her and took a firm grip of Willow's shoulders. Willow screamed out in surprise, stood up, spun around, and asked who this person was.
The woman who grabbed Willow expressed her dismay that Willow didn't recognize her and that [i]Willow treated her so badly.[/i]
Let's just leave out what it usually means when a stranger grabs a woman in today's society. Let's leave out that Willow spends way too much of her own time guarding her little sister because of trauma from a similar (if somewhat more extreme) situation. Let's leave out why it is or is not okay to grab someone from behind without warning and focus on the fact that this woman (who I later learned is named Marilyn) was offended that Willow didn't appreciate being grabbed from behind by someone she didn't recognize.
I wouldn't have even thought that was noteworthy (which is sad in it's own way, someone can grab a person at work, frighten them, and their own sister shrugs it off as "wow, why do people do this all the time? It's rude.") if Marilyn hadn't written Willow this morning, told her how offended she was that a pagan sister in arms could possibly be so rude to her, and that she was going to boycott our store and tell all of her friends to do the same.
This has started a dialogue which is still going on, largely because you can't block people on Facebook. Apparently, Marilyn was very insulted when other people asked her if someone tried to rob Willow (given that there were robberies the day before, everyone was on edge) and why she had screamed, and is giving Willow a hard time about how Willow's done this horrible thing to her.
I'm really freaking out because I keep thinking about the people who say that being labeled sex offenders has ruined their life, as if what they did [i]didn't[/i] ruin the lives of the people they did it to.
Fuck, when I finally spoke up about being abused, the guy who did it threw a pity party for himself about how (when I didn't even fucking press charges, he didn't need to get a lawyer, he isn't on any list of sex offenders even though that precisely what he is and I was fucking underage; I just told him I didn't want him to come to my house or contact me again) I ruined his life. Well, years later I'm still fucking mental, I still cry and scream if someone touches me, I'm still afraid every time there's someone behind me I can't see that I'm going to get raped, I still start crying so hard I drool if I see so much as a photograph of someone in a sexual situation; so I think it's safe to say you ruined mine too.
And I can't help but see that every time someone says "you're being upset about this is making me look bad."
What's wrong with people?