Wednesday, October 10, 2018

Thanksgiving

10-07-2018
That would be Thanksgiving weekend here in Canada. No work this long weekend, and of course, no overtime. And no invites to the vineyard I helped out last year, worth $200/day for my grape picking efforts, not to mention one day of running the forklift for them. I also was supplied with dinner out of the deal, and as I am on good terms with this former employer, I thought that there would be a return invite, as in prior years. But no, and if I have it right, I would assume my manipulators have their own reasons for keeping me house bound this long weekend.

The perp assholes have been pulling door thumps on my residence each evening of late, only one or two each day, and often coincident when I come to some realization, usually from a thought process that is idling in the back of my head. It is a single thump, not a knock, and of course, there is no one there. Not that I look, as I have been conditioned to regard these unconventional noise/vibration intrusions as "its the Thems again".

Another week of construction laboring passed, and it was relatively OK. The usual increased flux of dudes around me, often when I just get to a room to do work, or else when transiting hallways and turn a corner. The elevator egress is also fraught with games too.

Though the E. Indian workers (cleaners and dry wallers), are a particularly "sticky" bunch, meaning that they always seem to be hanging around me, and made themselves little more annoying this week. Not only from their jabbering when around me, and being particularly frequent in my proximity, but also distinguishing themselves by being particularly rude. Not only do they not communicate, or even engage in opening doors or allowing passage in tight places, (normal for all other construction workers), but they seem to come on in surges around me. As I see it, I have done my "E. Indian time", listening to them all day long when working in vineyards, sometimes for months, though never  a full season. And so, here they are again, a particularly featured stalking subpopulation for whatever perp reason sits behind all this. (Perhaps because my brother married one?)

Today, as I was handling a pallet in the hallway of the construction site, where the egress was constrained by the pallet where my co-worker and I had been working and just completed unloading, why, an E. Indian threesome of males "happens" to pass by, and one of them collides with me and keeps on going. That this crowd doesn't do "sorry" isn't news to me, but as I see it, you either fit in or go home. Anyhow, having stalkers run into me isn't new either, but having brown skinned ones go this rude on me is a new one. And of course, any time I am handling pallets begets extra flushes of dudes around me, but this time it was the E. Indian's turn. So go fuck yourselves, all the stalkers for that matter. And for that matter, civic manners should be part of the citizenship test, and if they fail, they go home. Same for learning English. I don't know why we have to put up with this seditious government sponsored nonsense.

That this same crowd had the elevator stuffed with four step ladders for one of my trips down from my working floor to the first floor later in the day didn't surprise me. I don't know what the deal is about the perps and step ladders, or any kind of ladder for that matter, but it was a signature stalking prop from the get-go when all this shit rained down on me, 04-2002. As in the perps, who had been surreptitiously following and arranging my life suddenly went berserk/overt and made it known that they considered me a Prime Victim and introduced me to their unconventional technologies and malevolent and relentless abuse.

And I suppose, one of two of them strutting around on stilts in my proximity for drywall work was also part of the plan, as the perps just love to have their stalkers at a different elevation from me, often by using stairs or like.

The disposable booties work place wearing requirement is still going on, though running out of steam. They went through 5,000 pairs in three days and haven't been able to keep up, putting bins up at the exit doors, where one can re-use booties placed there from others. Never mind that these retread booties are in terrible shape, and it also does cause me to wonder what the management is thinking when they want workers to fish through the bins to find pairs that can survive being put on, never mind re-use.

The owner of the millwork firm for whom I work came to visit the work site for two days this week; he seems like a decent guy, and not one of those relentless hard asses that I so often meet. He even took us all out for drinks and dinner at a nearby pub later. I chatted with him for a time, about the business and related matters. Gosh, I was treated like a normal for once, and not given the usual looks of dread and tension I get.

And the reason for a missed yoga class the prior week came into focus; a new yoga instructor. I believe it has been an everytime event now; whenever a new instructor comes on, (usually unbeknownst to me), they have me miss the first class. And after stalking my ass in yoga with tattoo cases of other yogis in my proximity, why, they now have this new instructor plastered with this fugly body mutilation. All over her arms no less, and quite a gross-out. At best, past instructors had a little tattoo on their foot or something, but this is quite the unavoidable tattoo show.

The new instructor has a more demanding tone and is less inclined to be chatty or relaxed. It has been apparent over the last five years of yoga that they have, in prior years, pulled such instructors in short order and replaced them with more friendly ones. It would seem that this instructor is returning to that fold they were testing me out in prior years; the tone and nature of the instructor's verbal delivery also seems to be a big deal for the perps.

And too, the yoga class underwent a major re-population (same class, same day and time); hardly any of the recent regulars, and to my relief they seemed to have dispensed with the E. Indian that was hounding my ass for the last 8 weeks. I have never figured out how the yoga class gets populated, apart from the Unfavored specimens being injected, as it seems there are hardly any regulars beyond 3 months.

Anyhow, I am late in getting this posted, and I shall cut the news off for now.

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