After a very long shift Christmas night I waited, as always, for day shift to stroll in, 15 minutes to a half hour late.
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The phone rang.... On the other end I heard the blood curdling scream, the kind that goes straight to your bones. In the background I hear a male voice hollaring "You lying nasty bitch"...and something about going to work. A mousy, trembling voice says, "This is Lindsay, I'll call you right back."
Lindsay called back after she dropped her live-in boyfriend off at his work. Hysterically crying she said she couldn't make it to work, her lip was too fat and her head hurt because of the large knots on it. She took a beating from her boyfriend on the way to work.
What the hell???
I couldn't calm her down on the phone. I urged her to go to the police but of course, that wasn't an option. I told her to come by so I could at least see if she needed medical attention, which she agreed to.
Things like this consume me. I get angry, I feel scared, I feel very frustrated. We all know the statistics, we all have been touched in some way by abuse.
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Lindsay will probably lose her job she has drama like this often but keeps returning to the same place, the same man. I've met him. He's a little grease-ball punk, about 2 inches taller than me, and is as dumb as a box of rocks.
Inside, what I felt was mostly anger. Towards the grease ball, and even towards her as I know she'll go back. She has 3 children and finding a different place to live would be trying...and now she's another 12 hours short on her paycheck.
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I don't want to be involved, although I asked her several times if there was anything I could do for her, anything she needed but she declined. I gave her the lecture. "It only gets worse, you accept this behavior and it escalates."
I left Lindsay slumped over her steering wheel sobbing, and she thanked me.....for what??
I was angry.
I live my life so quietly. I work, I blog, I play scrabble....
I don't want to worry about Lindsay and her children,
but I am.