Now What? Men of the Moose Lodge Respond?

All I wanted was to buy myself some time. I wasn’t under any illusions that what I said was going to change the Men of the Moose. 

The Letter to the Moose Lodge was downloaded into my brain, the culmination of 28 years of self-examination, education, and personal growth. I read it into the ether, into the collective unconscious. I read it for me, and I read it for the ancestors who weren’t able to speak for themselves. I read it for those still suffering, a rallying cry into the howling darkness that millions of people are living in. 

I’m definitely an altruist though. I was genuinely surprised to be handed an eviction letter the next day.

I did my due diligence, called Fair Housing, who assured me that no matter what’ s in their contract, they are still bound by State laws, and that a 12 day eviction notice is not legal. I also spoke to PPD, informally, and while they took my report in case anything further happens, they say they can't do anything, no actual law has been broken,  it just looks like I got caught in the Good Ol Boys network.

I forwarded the paperwork from Fair Housing to the Men of the Moose, along with their number. I also sent this information to the Moose Lodge Regional Manager. And, I made a decision about one last bit of information I’d held back. 

I used to work at Steamer’s as a cocktail waitress, I bartended at Main Street, and at Club Med, and on Windjammer Cruises in Maui. As such, I was used to men making advances after they’d been drinking. So in April, when Roger made some very inappropriate advances, I brushed it off, and chalked it up to his drinking. 

Before this happened I went into the Moose Lodge for breakfast every Sunday, and in for dinner at least once a week. After the incident in April, I simply quit going in, except on very rare occasions. I didn’t want trouble, or jeopardize my living space, which has always been a temporary situation. And I didn’t want to do anything that would hurt Sally, his wife.

The thing is though; I’m not a cocktail waitress or bartender anymore. I’m someone who pays rent to Roger for the space I live in, and someone whose life he’s intentionally trying to cause damage too.

So, I included this information in my next letter to the local Moose Board, and cc’d the Moose Regional Manager.

When they came to visit me yesterday, they wanted to know how much longer I want to stay, that maybe they could work with me. I reminded them about Fair Housing but for some reason they think those laws don’t apply to them. 

They want me, and the can of worms I’ve opened, to go away quietly. They don’t want the paperwork, or I imagine, the publicity, that comes with the kinds of things they’ve obviously gotten away with in the past.

They also told me I’d have to bring proof and witnesses in regard to my claims. I know better. They obviously didn’t look at my CV very closely.

Again, I don’t want to face backwards, or go into the darkness. My life has opened before me and I want to revel in it, to give what I’ve got in big ways that help many people, rather than one person at a time.

Also, I’m not Mother Theresa. I want adventure, and sparkly shoes, and my teardrop trailer. I want to offer myself as a hand out of the dark, not as a companion to suffer with you in it. 

Someone asked, why do you want to be where you’re not wanted? I can’t answer this question. I’ve tried. There are too many answers, not the least of which are, why did gays want to serve in the military, or schools decide segregation was a bad idea? 

Which leads me to today, when the woman who was evicted two days before I was, dropped by. She’s homeless. She’s at the mercy of her abuser, the same man the Moose Lodge called to clear her things out after they gave her a 30 minute eviction notice. This is the same man who raped her when she was 14. She cried as she talked about how Roger, and his buddy, Peter, the cat hater, used to tease her about her breasts, and make sexual comments about her, to her face. 

As I sat across from her, I saw the self I might have been, had I not made the choice to change 28 years ago.  The me who was raised to be a homeless drug addict. 

I read my Letter to the Moose Lodge to her. It says everything, and nothing I can say can better say to her, I know how it feels to be you. 

She’s ready to fight for herself, but who’s going to take her seriously?

It's really not up to me to fight everyone's battle, or to do battle alone, or for that matter, to fight at all. 

I gave her what I had, information to contact Fair Housing, the Women's Shelter, and PPD. I shone a light into her darkness and offered her a hand up. It's up to her now.The Men of Moose will be coming over again tomorrow at noon, to hand me yet another verdict. Please feel free to join the party (and give them "that" look).

I love you.