… So I needed a place to get out of the cold for the night.
Pepe, a nice Guatemalan man, the assistant trainer for Kelly R., gave me permission to sleep in the office at the barn for one night; but he told me to be careful of the cameras, because nobody is allowed to sleep there. I slept there for two nights. Early, in the morning, after the second night,
he came in and told me, “You said you stay one night,… the guy, … he’s coming; and he’s crazy! You better get out of here, or he’s gonna cause problems!”
So I frantically threw my boots on, stuffed my phone charger in my pocket and rammed my belongings into my plastic shopping bag. I left my loaf of bread and new pants on the floor in Jeremy’s barn, in front of one of his stalls. I walked up to the clocker’s tower to watch the horses for a bit and drink a cup of coffee while waiting for the taxi to arrive.
Upon entering, the woman in the clockers’ tower, Vikki, the clocker, (a woman I have known for over twenty years,) became uninviting and said, “You can’t be in here all day! This is for the trainers. … you just can’t be in here.” Nobody had ever complained about me being there, and she was simply being selfish and,… … Shitty!
We had a brief conversation with her, pretending to engage in “small-talk,” before I said, “You know, I’ve been in this business for over 20 years, and I risk my life for people.
“Me, too,” she rudely interrupted.
“And these same people always tell me to go away.” I opened the door and walked out briskly, closing it abruptly, whilst hearing her fleetingly say,
“Oh, no, you’re welcome!” Her intent was not sincere.
This is one of the reasons people do not like me. When they treat me in a way that they would not want to be treated, themselves, then, I point out their behavior; they tend to treat me like I am incorrect, aggressive and socially inapt. This is a constant pattern in my life.
The reason I chose to respond to her in that way was because she was simply rude, and inhumane! Telling somebody to go away just because you want to be in control of nothing is narcissistic.
I walked up the horse path, spilling my coffee all over myself with every other step. An embarrassing walk of shame it was! I found a tree stump to sit on behind the starting gate where I finished my coffee and watched the horses go by.
I spotted Lupe on the rail, so I went over, shook his hand, and we had a brotherly conversation. He offered to drive me to Virginia next week. I had to turn him down, because I could not fathom being homeless without transportation in the cold for that long. We exchanged phone numbers. I gave him a big hug, patting him on the back and said, “Thank you for everything, Mi Hermano!” (Which means, “My Brother,” in Spanish).
I went back to the sticky, sap-drooling stump and sat down, waiting for the taxi to arrive. As a matter of fact, that is what I am doing right now- sitting on that stump, telling you my story.
…
Then, I go to the repo place, and the woman asked me why my taxi cab is leaving me there.