Okay, a new day. There are just some things I will never understand. But before I go into that, the rest of what happened yesterday:

Brenda came back into the office, tear-streaked face, walked right into the bathroom and stayed there for a few minutes. Then she came out, and we (at this point there were only 2 people in the office, a female coworker and myself) told her that she could leave, she was not fit to work. She said she might go to a shelter or to the police, then mumbled something about him following her and left out the back door.

That was when I began yesterday's entry. The phone rang, my coworker picked it up, got off the phone and dialed the police while I paged the man who works out of this office. While she was on hold, she told me that the call was from a man, saying he was watching us, knew his woman was here, was gonna come in, etc.

At this point, I started to freak out a bit. There was a van driving back and forth in front of the office, we're on ground level with glass doors in a sparsely populated stripmall. As Joe, the sales-guy for the office, a tall Texan who used to be a bouncer, was walking towards the door, two men jumped out of the van and headed for the office from the opposite direction. He beat them to the door. Got in, turned around, and locked the door.

I was so relieved/scared/upset, I started to cry at the sight of Joe. The men started to bang against the door, two black guys, a good foot shorter than Joe. Joe said, "We're closed," through the door. He stood there, with his legs apart, a steady stance, arms crossed in front of him, livid because we briefly told him what happened on the phone, staring down the drunk abusive fuck on the other side of the glass door.

The cops came. Arrested the guy, the friend was still walking around. I was hyperventilating, my hands were shaking, my lower lip was slightly swollen, must have been biting it, and my cheeks were streaked with tears and remnants of mascara. Needless to say, I got to leave for the day. We all did, locked up and left.

I don't get it. I don't understand why a 50-something-year-old woman, whose appearance and disposition is the epitome of white trash, with missing teeth and poor grammar, would keep herself in a situation with a 30-something-year-old black man who has no job, takes her money, drinks daily, and beats the shit out of her every chance he gets.

I'm sorry, but I do NOT feel bad for this woman. She came to work yesterday morning, knew what was going to happen, she kept talking about it, "I hate him, I don't want to see him, but I'm obligated because I give him all my money, and he's drunk all the time, so drunk...yadda yadda, I'm clueless, yadda." I said words that she didn't want to hear, didn't understand, words like, "Why don't you kick him out? Why are you still with him? You don't have to stay in this situation."

She said it was harder to be alone. I told her I've been alone, and I find it liberating. And I'd rather be alone than stuck and abused. Call me crazy. This sick, drunk, pathetic, weak, asshole-fuck actually found someone who would cater to his disease. And that makes me sick. It's emetic.

Today, coworkers were asking where she was. Was she okay, how can we find her, track her down, help her. My response surprised me. I said, "Don't bother. Don't get yourself into a situation that's only going to bring you down or put yourself in harm's way. This has been a pattern for her for a long time, and no kind words from anyone are going to suddenly snap her out of it."

Brenda called this morning. She said this happens all the time with this guy, she can't hold down a job, etc. etc. My coworker informed her that it's best for all of us if she did not return. She hung up on us. I just don't get it. Oprah talks about the victim mentality, "stop being a victim." I don't necessarily think it's a woman's fault that a man is abusive. Not the first time. After that, whether it be a subconscious or conscious part, that part of her is asking for it. And I cannot and will not pity that part.

Does that make me cold? Strong? Intolerant? Afraid? I don't know, really. But it's how I feel, and I choose not to surround myself with that kind of horror. Yes, I hope she's okay, human suffering of any kind saddens me, regardless of the cause. But if something does happen, it would be like realizing the inevitable, if anything.

What a miserable life these people have. No love, only self-hatred projected outward to be brought back by the hands of another. That's what makes me sad.

-Barbarella

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