Friday, December 10, 2010

Criminal "James Hansen" with Jersey Mike's and The Fuckers

This guy is one piece of real work, who was here, basically waiting for me to come by.

He's dishonest, and yet he told me he worked for the National Guard or disaster management services for 10 years.

I don't even know if this is his real name, because he put on this whole show when I went in to be interviewed for work. He put on an entire Chris Dabney act and there is no way he doesn't know who Chris is.

This guy is a fucker and I only took work with him because there was nothing else immediately, even though I knew the situation was some kind of weird set up.

He is from Chicago, Illinois, he said, and gives discounts to police, government workers and some others, and half of the people who came in were really great but half were like the worst of the worst, and maybe wore decent clothes and had normal work, but were really the worst kinds of people.

I had this feeling, from the first interview, that he just wanted me to work there for my humiliation and then fire me over something stupid.

He had a bunch of yuppie friends with him when he put on his Chris Dabney act. He went to a decent college in Chicago.

I went ahead with it, out of embarrassment and everything, and on the first day, at HIS place, one of his employees, or HE used military technology against me and then I had something bad from their food.

What happened at his store was one of the few isolated incidents I've had in Nashville. Which basically makes him a criminal but I thought about not going back and figured they thought I wasn't coming back after that, but I did anyway, to see if anything changed.

Oh, and yes, one of the incidents in having some kind of shit in my food happened at his place. Someone else made the sub for me and I wasn't paying attention. After this, I made my own sub and wouldn't look away from it for a minute.

I had one incident for certain, with medication in my food from a place I stayed, in oatmeal, and then at this guy's sub place.

But I went back, even after being totally humiliated, tortured basically (again), and medicated.

The ONLY reason I never wrote about it was because I needed work that badly. But all it was, was an opportunity to put on a show and ridicule me and then set me up.

The last time I was there, I made my own sub and walked away in my right mind. Thank God. He and the co-workers there also didn't try anything weird with technology again, except on the last day his register (computerized) kept ringing up stuff that I wasn't even entering and I kept having to catch it and correct it.

I kept one receipt with me, of something that happened with his fucking computer register. This woman came in, with a pink and yellow outfit on, and I remember her exactly, and she ordered a chicken salad sandwich and a drink. Something simple like that. I pressed the button for the sandwich and then I pressed the button for the soda. I then pressed the button for "enter" or to total it and instead, 4 more chicken sandwiches, one right after the other, like someone else was on the same machine, were entered. For a grand total of 5. My hands were off of the screen and nowhere near the sandwich keys.

I saw this and I hit "print" before voiding and deleting it. 5 Chicken sandwiches and a soda and this was the kind of thing that was happening esp. on the last day.

Just before this, he was yelling at me for letting some man walk away without paying for a sandwich when no one did. A few tried when I was there, and no one got away. I looked at the ticket and it said "Reuben" and no one had even ordered a Reuben and I had not pressed a button for one either.

He wouldn't listen.

When this happened, and then when I saw the machine entering things of its own free will and accord, like someone else had remote access or control of it, I knew then and there:

1. I got hired to be put on a humiliating display.

2. Then, the point was to make it appear as though I make mistakes or can't remember things.

Who does this benefit?

The Post Pub

Nice Job Fuckers.

It benefits the same Post Pub that is actually legally liable for not only firing me for being pregnant (by a co-worker), but refusing to pay my tax and refusing to send me my W-2 and then lying about this to the IRS.

It also benefits anyone who would wish to contest my ability to do any kind of work.

However, given the uncanny theatrics of acting like Chris Dabney, I think this sums up as a yuppie and corporate smear.

The people who came in to ridicule me were government workers, a few Jewish, a few mental health professionals from DHS offices, some Catholic, a few token middle eastern, and a couple of police officers who I had the worst possible vibe from from the moment they came in, wearing their black uniforms. They were bad news cops. One had the surname "Corman". Corman wasn't as bad as the taller guy he was with but still--They sat there and watched me for hours and then nodded off to James.

A few with british accents came in but mostly composed. One had a sort of sneer and look of jubilance, but mostly, anyone with an accent was at least, on the outside, somewhat composed.

Then James himself was a serious prick. He made all kinds of insulting inuendoes.

I stuck with it though, to my credit, until just now, when I was released to write about the fuckers. He fired me over the phone for "calling me during lunch rush". He had told me to call him on Friday for the rest of the schedule and then over the phone said to call back. So when I did, he had the fax machine connected when I called 10 minutes later, and I got a fax tone in my ear. Hmmm. Sounds like Mt. Angel Abbey's law firm shit to me. The law firm not the Abbey. So I looked at what I had dialed and it was right so I tried again and one guy picked up the phone--Zach. He said to call back and then James picked up on the other line which meant he was in the office where the fax machine would be. He talked over Zach and fired me. I pretty much knew that if I took the job, it was only to put me on a stand to be made fun of and that was all. I knew this, but I still hoped for better, and did what I could. But no, he's a criminal, one or more of his employees are willing to harm someone, and his associates may wear ties, and yuppie fleece pullovers, but they're sleazy.

It wasn't normal.

It is better that I'm not working for him or any other fucking employee that drugs their employees lunch. Free lunch. Thanks.

Kind of like not ever having my period when I had "free lunch" at The Post Pub.

The minute I quit taking and eating the "free lunch" and bought my own outside of work, my period returned. Whaddya know. And then I got pregnant and no one wanted me to have the kid. Hello Army.

I'm sure there is absolutely no connection whatsoever.

When James Hansen told me I didn't need to come back, I said a few things and then added that if he thought it was in his best interests, that was fine.

I can promise it was not in his best interests. It also wasn't in the best interests of the posse of assholes that I watched salivate over my standing behind a deli counter, after knowing what they'd collectively done to me.

It may be that this guy doesn't know Chris at all, but I doubt it, based on how even his computer register was doing similar things that the one in D.C. was doing when they were trying to get rid of me.

It is possible he shadowed Chris to imitate so many of his mannerisms but I asked if they were related because it seemed more like relation than an act or just theatrics.

I had wondered why he hired me at all. His parents loathed me when I saw them and his other co-worker glared at me the whole time and was only happy when I worked a day there.

I think they were only betting on something and getting paid off to do something. For one thing, using military shit on me in the workplace isn't normal. Neither is medicating my sub.

I think part of the reason to hire me was to keep my mouth shut so a few other things can proceed on course, on a more international level. That would be an additional reason for the fuck up.

I love it when mobsters mix it up with the U.S. Government.

Love it.

Anyway, yeah, I'm still sort of fasting. But I have to let it out with this latest. It is deserved and right for me to write about it.

Some things I have wanted to write about so badly and couldn't because I was stuck in a situation where it was all I had and as bad and horrific as it is, I've been put in positions where I am going to stay in it or appear to be making voluntary choices when I don't have options really, at least not viable ones when trapped.

My opinion is that people of even average intelligence can figure out the simple things--that what is going to be beneficial to them is making me happy.

When I say making me happy, I mean not intefering with my work.

I was working there and one after the other "Knight" or "Knights" trucks went by while I worked at that sub place. I wondered what in the world that was about too. It was back and forth, my whole shift like a big christmas shipment or something but I don't know what they deliver.

I had sort of this bad feeling when I first took the job that even though it was work, it wasn't good for my family for some reason. I don't know why I would think this, but because it was the first thing that came up, I took it while I looked for something else.

By the way, this and my other posts of late, are all true. I am not making things up. They are written honestly and not for purposes of uncovering anything or being misleading for a good reason. It's all the truth.

The computer register was totally screwed up too. Sometimes it was printing out totally wrong receipts that didn't match the orders entered and I had to check every single one to make sure it was accurate and go back and fix it if it wasn't.

I could tell a few men felt so bad for me, to even see me working there at all. Esp. on the first day. Some came in looking horrified and just sad about it, and then some came in like it was their big day and finally! they could witness and evidence what they'd dragged me down to. Like this whole van of dressed military men that came in who thought the whole thing was hilarious.

I think it made some feel a lot better though. A sigh of relief, to see me behind a fast food counter basically, and maybe helped them to feel that I really couldn't make it. The women too, were not too bad. Not so catty and mean when the woman they hate is ringing up their sub. I think they felt better about themselves.

Like I said, half the people coming in were the best salt of the earth (maybe less than half) and then the rest were the serious haters.

I would like to know how much James got fucking paid.

Too many of these people I've had to deal with, who hound me and ruin my odds intentionally, are interconnected.

Back the fuck off, leave me alone, and allow me to work. You may be keeping me down, but you are really not giving yourself the best names. There are some who will start to keep an eye on you, and will piece some things together that maybe you don't want pieced together.

I shouldn't have just asked if he knew a Chris but if he knew a Brad. And then we could inquire about the other Chris.
**********************************
What I said happened in Wenatchee was no joke. I didn't feel safe enough there, to even write about half the things that were going on. But it was very bad.

My son is not safe unless he is with me and if we need to be in a different country or part of the country, this should be made possible.

I'm starting to calm down a tiny bit.

For some reason, at about 3:50 (?), the word for the star constellation, or mythology, "pleiades" came to mind

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