Don't be a stranger
|I already wrote last week about how strange men, random realtors, have been showing up in my home unannounced. It hit a breaking point after yet another one appeared in my kitchen last Friday and refused to leave after I asked him repeatedly. I'd been threatened the day before, and I told this guy he needed to get out. He kept arguing with me - about whether or not he was allowed to be in MY home without MY permission! I was there alone, and I started to get pretty freaked out. Imagine how much worse I felt when he shifted into perpetrator mode.|
"So I get it. You're saying you're a hostile tenant."
"Excuse me? I didn't say that. I asked you to get out of my home."
Anyone wanna remember how insane it is that I have to have this argument in the first place?
"Well, this is your fault that this is happening."
Is that anything like telling me "I deserve it" for wearing a skirt?
"This is MY fault? You're a strange man in my house! I don't know who the fuck you are! Get out!"
(grabs at his suit jacket) "Look, I'm not those other guys."
Woah, buddy. Who do you mean, and what do you mean? You're not like those other guys who beat their girlfriends cause you only slapped me once or what? That's the kind of language and rationale you continue to use while invading my privacy and sense of safety? Cause that's abuse language. And I don't give a shit if you're wearing a cheap suit.
I finally said, "You don't get that I'm a woman, home alone, and you're a strange man who won't leave my home. Do you get that that's scary? Do you get that?"
He sort of stared at me and finally stormed out. I called my roommate, hysterical, and then I called the cops. We got the locks changed a few hours later, and I'm filing more complaints than before as well as hauling my landlord to court.
Tip to the fuckwads: don't give me your business card or use your own car. Don't assume I don't have a next level attorney. I've got your plates, your name, the law on my side, and your ass is grass, motherfuckers. See ya'll in court.