What. The. Hell?!?! (Or Wherein Lupo is offered shelter from domestic violence...?)

[lupo pazzesco]

Bit of background. Today, I set up the law school section. This entailed hauling out three pallets of boxes of books, myriad amounts of shelves to set up the new shelving units, and lots and lots and lots of heavy ass law books. I also tend to bruise easily. Very easily. Keep this in mind, there will be a quiz later.

So, I'm going about my business, I get the shelves installed, the tags put out, and I'm ready to start opening up boxes, and hauling out books. I do so for a good, 2-3 hours, on my own, and happy because I don't have to deal with people when I'm playing in the law section. I swear, I'm the only employee who knows how to set that area up right, so I'm given free rein. 'Tis nice, indeed.

It's also a good workout and very physically demanding. I moved about 55-65 boxes of law books today, and law books are generally big and heavy. They were impacting my arms, and in some cases with really high stacks, impacting on my neck.

Cue this exchange with a future lawyer... >.> He came in while I was hauling around some constitutional law books. Easily 2000 pages, minimum. Heeeavy... I nod to him in greeting, give the "If you need help finding anything let me know" spiel and go about my business.

Two minutes later....

Him: You don't have to settle, you know.
Me: Is there something I can help you find, sir?
Him: There are shelters everywhere nowadays. I have a friend who runs a great shelter downtown. One phone call, and you can be safe.
Me: .... I'm...not sure I get what you're talking about, sir...
Him: <Gestures to my arms> No one should be abused. Ever. Whether it's a parent or a spouse.
Me: <Glances down at my arms. Yeah, I've got some marks that are already bruising, and red marks from where the boxes/books chafed. Remember what I said about bruising easily...?> Uh...I think you're misunderstanding something.
Him: Sweetie, you have bruises on your neck. How much longer can you stay quiet and let someone do that to you??
Me: Ok, sir, I think I need to clarify something. I've been working on hauling these boxes and setting up these shelves for about 4 hours now. It's heavy, intense physical labor, and I unfortunately bruise easily. Those marks aren't abuse, they're from the boxes rubbing on my arms and the book corners when I grab a heavy stack.
Him: <Sighs> And I suppose you're going to tell me your neck wounds are from books.
Me: 'Fraid so. <And I demonstrate by grabbing a huge pile of books and resting my chin on them as I take them to the proper tag.> So, I'm sorry for the confusion, but I don't need a shelter.

You would think that would be the end of it, right...? Riiiiiiiiiight

Him: honey, denial isn't going to help you in the long run.
Me: Ok, sir, please stop referring to me as sweetie or honey, for one thing. For another, these are part of my job. End of story. Now, can I help you find something today in regards to law books or study materials?
Him: <Waves a hand> I need books, but those can wait. Please, just let me give you this phone number and--
Me: Sir, I don't need it! I'm sorry, but you're mistaken. I'm not being abused. My family lives several hundred miles away and I'm single. There's no one I know to abuse me!
Him: <Getting huffy> Young lady, I'm trying to help you help yourself!
Me: I don't need that kind of help, sir. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to get back to work.
Him: Fine. Let him kill you. See if anyone will help you then! Probably better off so your stupidity doesn't corrupt the gene pool.
Me: ExCUSE you?!?
Him: If you won't help yourself, I'm sorry for trying to help you!

At this point, I decide it's time for Lupo to go back to the text desk and tell my manager what's going on, and that I'm not going back there until the asshat is gone.

Luckily it was my cool textbook manager on today, so he headed over, was uber cheerful, helped the guy get what he needed and got him out of the store. he ended up buying a notebook. That's it, a simple, one subject, law margin knee-pad.

Meh. People.

To be that willfully obtuse and needing to be a white knight. Seriously? Next time, Sir Twatwaffle of Assville, you should mind your own business. Sure, it's nice to try and help someone, but to just randomly assume I'm being abused, and not listening to any of my reasons because apparently I'm in denial and don't know better? And then to tell me that because I'm not listening to you, I should go ahead and be beaten to death.



Grrr...

[Antisocial_Worker]

Well, I can't honestly say I feel your pain because for one I'm a guy and for another, I'm absolutely covered in hair. I fairly pulse with testosterone, in other words, and manly men of the masculine gender, such as myself, are supposed to be able to take care of ourselves. I've been abused by a partner of course, but that's beside the point, which I ought to get to before I see a squirrel and my ADD kicks in.

Anyway, what I really wanted to write about here was a friend of mine who has served in the army in the Middle East and who has been blown up no fewer than three times by roadside bombs. She needs quite a bit of medical care from the aftereffects of all of that, as you can imagine, and for months once she came back to the US everyone was trying to get her to go to the police, see a lawyer, head to a shelter -- you name it, all in the interest of protecting her from some abusive spouse or boyfriend who didn't exist. She had to explain repeatedly that her teeth were blown out, not knocked down her throat, and her bones look like a chart of the constellations in X-rays because of the shrapnel and because they've just been broken that many times. Nobody abused her. Hell, nobody would dare because she'd kill them. That is not an exaggeration, either. She's done it before.

But still... People insist on offering help when there's no need at all for it.

[NightWatch]

That's like when my friend's mom had a baby while she was in highschool and my friend would go with her mom and baby sister places and old ladies would give her dirty looks and refused to believe that the child wasn't hers.
Yup, people don't mind their own business and should be told to shove off.

[Willis]

It's a catch-22. He was an asshole and not listening but he did seem to be trying to help until he got to the "fine let him kill you part." Then on the flip side some women do deny being abused and look for any excuse.

Too bad you bruise so easily. It must suck getting assumptions as to how they happened.

[Der Cute]

So?
Have a few boxes poke your arms in a smiley face pattern.

He tried to help but didn't understand BACKOFF. Hope he learns it soon!

Cutenoob

[ZumZum]

Same thing happened to me several years ago. I also bruise very easily.
We had 4-way racks at work (a children's clothing store).
Since the racks held kid's clothes, they were lower. I was constantly walking into them.

One day I am on the floor, a customer keeps staring at me. I ask if I can help her. She says, "You have the BIGGEST bruise on your arm. Are you ok?".
I look in the mirror, sure enough, I have a huge bruise on the back of my arm.

I assure her I am ok, that I must have walked into the racks again. I even go up to one to show her they are the same height as my bruise.

She comes up to me and whispers that I can go somewhere safe, she knows people.
I start to laugh. She says she is serious.
Just then, my friend comes out of the stockroom. I call to her and tell her that this kind women fears that my (then BF, now hubby) is abusing me. My friend falls over with laughter and assures the woman that I am with the most gentle and nicest men on earth. That he should be scared of my because I am such a bitch!
She then shows the woman that she has the identical bruise on her arm, from walking into the fixtures.

The woman apologizes and runs out of the store. I felt kind of bad, but an abused woman? I am not and NEVER will be.

[calulu]

I've gotten that a bunch too. I bruise easily and I'm clumsy. Once when I was pregnant with my first child I had a nightmare and ended up thrashing around the bed and hitting my head on the nightstand before I fully awoke. I ended up with a split lip and black eye on the right side of my head. The director of the CPS I was working for called me into her office to talk to me about it because my coworkers were starting to worry I'd been beaten.

But not I get it all the time at the gym. Twice a month I get four injections at the doctors office for my illness. The solution is a thick almost gel and I end up very bruised from the injections with a thick needle. People at the gym have approached me about the series of bruises on my arms and legs. It's the treatments.. I always laugh and thank the person for asking and then explain about the treatments.

[lupo pazzesco]

See, I would've found it amusing and/or thanked him for asking if he would've just left me alone after I told him the first time I was fine. But noooo, he kept insisting I was wrong...

And then the "Let him kill you" comment really pissed me off...

[Hyena Dandy]

I can understand thinking you'd been abused. I can even understand continuing to think you'd been abused after you'd denied it.

But... Continuing to act like that, and then throwing a bitch fit shows he didn't really want to help you. He wanted to be a big damn hero. Only reason he was trying to help was to feed his over-inflated ego.

[Moggie]

Hey Lupo, you're not he only one who bruises easily. And sad to say, it's gotten me in that kind of trouble before too, although my big mouth helped.

I had just taken up a new hobby full contact western martial arts sparring (SCA heavy armored combat for the curious) and was a total newb. I had *lots* of really pretty bruises on my shoulders, legs and a whopper that ran across both sides of my tookus. I was proud of my bruises because it meant I was getting out and doing things for myself so I was wearing shorts and sleeveless shirts fairly often.

Then I had a doctor's visit with a brand new OB/GYN. My honey drove me because we were both off that day and were going to lunch after. He was happily reading magazines in the waiting room when the nurse hustled me into the back room. She gave the doc a meaningful look and closed the door.

Doc: You don't have to go home with him you know

Me: wha-huh?

Doc: We have a phone back here. We can call the police and you don't have to go back with him.

Me: Oh, the bruises? My husband didn't give these to me his friends did.

Doc:
Nurse:
Me:


I had to show up again inside of two weeks with pictures and information to prove I wasn't being beaten on a regular basis. At least they quit bothering me after that.

[d962831]

You know, something about that makes me kinda suspicious of the guy. He went in and all he got was a notebook, and hen he kept trying even after you explained it. I'm not entirely sure he was just trying to be helpful, and may have bought the notebook just to make it look like he had a legitamite reason for being there in the first place. *shrug*

[Broomjockey]

He wanted to be a big damn hero. Only reason he was trying to help was to feed his over-inflated ego.

This. He did not mean well. He was an asshole. He was hoping that you'd be so damned grateful that you'd fall in love with him, the shining white knight, and when you destroyed his little delusion, he flipped right the hell out. That may not have been the exact plan, but some variant.

[Red_Dazes]

Back in my wild days I would frequently come home with all sorts of bruises from moshing at concerts. And even now I am extremely clumsy. A month or so ago I almost took a tumble down the stairs at our apartment, which would have ended badly for me. The Beau caught me and saved my poor little self, but I ended up with a nice batch of finger bruises on one arm and a big flat bruise on the other from smacking the wall..... Suffice to say.... i got LOTS of attention from that one... and when I would tell people the story they would just roll their eyes like I was a bloody liar.

[Tigerpounce]

And now I have a new signature: Next time, Sir Twatwaffle of Assville, you should mind your own business. - Lupo.



So my friends and I have invented this game called Water Polo-Rugby. We basically go all-out brawl for a single ball and a single goal. Needless to say I get some wicked bruises and my poor BF is just waiting for the accusations to come.

[LillFilly]

Hee, I do some live action roleplaying myself and have had to explain the bruises; never to such extent though! I have burned myself with a tempermental hot glue gun and had a coworker ask if my boyfriend was abusing me! I didn't have a boyfriend at the time.

But yeah, that guy started-out seeming to mean well, then went too far! Hope he doesn't come back and keep trying to 'save' you!