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Welcome To The Bitchery

I was. You were, too.

The sickening excuses. The rationalizing. The dissonance.

I woke up this morning remembering awful dreams, which I don’t usually remember.

Not quite 40 years ago a man said recently, that my parents “would be happy if I was the object of attention” of a prosecutor 15 years older than me. But, hey. I should be so lucky, apparently. We should all be grateful.


My Father (and Uncles) would have beaten the ever loving shit out of that guy. Probably nearly killed him.

At 14 years old I was in 9th grade at Catholic School, wearing a hideous green uniform. Me & some friends would go to a pizzeria after school to wait for the borough bus. I asked the Pizza Man if I could have a glass of water. He said, “Sure, come on back & get it yourself.” I did.


He pinned me against the sink, from behind, grinding his junk against my tiny ass & back. I was frozen in shock. I then ducked & ran. I reported him in my 14 year old voice the next day, to the Principal of my school. I never told my parents, especially my Father.

The Principal didn’t believe me. He told me I shouldn’t lie about upstanding men in our neighborhood. I was banned from the pizza place, very publicly, though I would never have willingly gone back there.


This is only one story. I have dozens.

I just thought it might help others of you here from feeling crazy about being 14 & having an open season on your body. And reporting & getting nowhere but fucked. I was 14 & now I’m finally crying a little telling the story.


IT IS CHILD MOLESTATION! In Alabama & everywhere with no excuse for “bygone days.”

It’s not okay. It was NEVER okay. Not today or 40 or 90 years ago. #metoo

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