last friday night
This is the first of two longish posts written over the last week. There may be another one or two to follow, but not before next week.
I said I might tell you the story behind the glass waiting to be washed in the supplementary 'mornings...' photo of Saturday. It's taken a while just because I found it hard to find a starting place.
On Friday night probably a little before midnight someone started hammering on my windows and shouting to be let in. Since I wasn't expecting anyone I assumed they were here for a neighbour and were just pounding on any surface in the vicinity. The fact they were also hammering on the back door of the block tended to confirm this. I didn't know whether they'd already tried the doorbell round the front.
I wasn't doing much to be honest, just watching an old episode of MST3K online. I opened my window and asked what the fuck they were doing. Okay, shouted it.
I was expecting an enraged drunk to emerge yelling at me. Instead the woman who came up to the window seemed quite upset and apologetic. And yes, I immediately felt like an dick for shouting at her.
The woman, let's call her Liz, recognised that she'd been knocking on the wrong windows; I think she'd wanted my neighbour at the front of the building. We talked for a while, me in my flat and Liz in the garden. She kept apologising, but mostly she told me about her family; in turn I asked her to stop apologising, apologised myself for shouting at her, and listened to what she told me.
She did keep getting upset, primarily about terrorism and apparently also about having annoyed me, which meant I kept having to hug her and tell her I understood. I don't know how long this went on, I'm guessing about five to ten minutes.
She also talked about her children, her siblings, and about entrepreneurship
Eventually, just before I got round to asking if she wanted to come into the flats since it was starting to rain, Liz asked if she could come in. I let her in expecting she'd head for my neighbour's door and resume pounding, instead she wandered into my flat and went straight to the toilet. Not a problem, I'd talk to her for a bit when she came out, I didn't expect her to stay long.
The glass, which at that stage still had a little lager or whatever it was in it, was one of the things she brought into the flat. I went through to my front room and started reading a magazine I had lying around. Not long after Liz came through and resumed talking.
At first it was much the same as before, only now we were both inside. We were both still stood up; she was reluctant to sit, and I didn't want to sit if it was likely to make her uncomfortable. Again there were the surges of emotion and upset from her, again I kept having to hug her for a short while until she was able to carry on. She did begin to expand a little further on her fears, the main one being her fear of terrorism.
A principal belief was that Islamic State (IS) and the IRA were the same. She was opposed to immigration despite some of her family having benefitted from it, mainly on the grounds that terrorists were using it as a route to enter the country.
We did eventually sit down, continuing to talk about much the same set of subjects as previously, and in much the same way. Although the moments of emotional upset grew further and further apart.
From quite early on she self-identified as lesbian (and assumed I was gay), she also told me about her boyfriend who she'd come to visit. Later she took to sitting on my knee, then coming onto me, and getting physically overfamiliar. I had no intention of taking advantage, so this never went any further, and probably confirmed her opinion that I was gay.
Around half-past two she decided it was time to go, and managed to take everything that she'd brought into the flat with her, except for the now empty glass which she forgot.
It's interesting to note that nothing Liz said or did was outside the bounds of 'normal' behaviour. None of her ideas, however removed from reality, were things I haven't heard expressed by friends, family, work colleagues and others. Personally I've expressed some far more outlandish ideas. Some specifics, for instance the conflation of IS with the IRA, were perhaps new but equivalent conflations are familiar.
Likewise none of her actions were anything I haven't encountered in similar situations and contexts from other adults. Strangers getting very emotional? Of course. Strangers coming onto me or being perhaps inappropriately physical? Sure.
And yet the combination of all these things was identifiably out of the ordinary, but actually in a much more subtle way than it initially seems.
I'm not entirely certain why I wanted to post this, especially as I've had to change Liz's name and remove a lot of specific detail. I am interested in how narrow the lines are between someone who might be considered vulnerable, and someone who wouldn't be.
I said I might tell you the story behind the glass waiting to be washed in the supplementary 'mornings...' photo of Saturday. It's taken a while just because I found it hard to find a starting place.
On Friday night probably a little before midnight someone started hammering on my windows and shouting to be let in. Since I wasn't expecting anyone I assumed they were here for a neighbour and were just pounding on any surface in the vicinity. The fact they were also hammering on the back door of the block tended to confirm this. I didn't know whether they'd already tried the doorbell round the front.
I wasn't doing much to be honest, just watching an old episode of MST3K online. I opened my window and asked what the fuck they were doing. Okay, shouted it.
I was expecting an enraged drunk to emerge yelling at me. Instead the woman who came up to the window seemed quite upset and apologetic. And yes, I immediately felt like an dick for shouting at her.
The woman, let's call her Liz, recognised that she'd been knocking on the wrong windows; I think she'd wanted my neighbour at the front of the building. We talked for a while, me in my flat and Liz in the garden. She kept apologising, but mostly she told me about her family; in turn I asked her to stop apologising, apologised myself for shouting at her, and listened to what she told me.
She did keep getting upset, primarily about terrorism and apparently also about having annoyed me, which meant I kept having to hug her and tell her I understood. I don't know how long this went on, I'm guessing about five to ten minutes.
She also talked about her children, her siblings, and about entrepreneurship
Eventually, just before I got round to asking if she wanted to come into the flats since it was starting to rain, Liz asked if she could come in. I let her in expecting she'd head for my neighbour's door and resume pounding, instead she wandered into my flat and went straight to the toilet. Not a problem, I'd talk to her for a bit when she came out, I didn't expect her to stay long.
The glass, which at that stage still had a little lager or whatever it was in it, was one of the things she brought into the flat. I went through to my front room and started reading a magazine I had lying around. Not long after Liz came through and resumed talking.
At first it was much the same as before, only now we were both inside. We were both still stood up; she was reluctant to sit, and I didn't want to sit if it was likely to make her uncomfortable. Again there were the surges of emotion and upset from her, again I kept having to hug her for a short while until she was able to carry on. She did begin to expand a little further on her fears, the main one being her fear of terrorism.
A principal belief was that Islamic State (IS) and the IRA were the same. She was opposed to immigration despite some of her family having benefitted from it, mainly on the grounds that terrorists were using it as a route to enter the country.
We did eventually sit down, continuing to talk about much the same set of subjects as previously, and in much the same way. Although the moments of emotional upset grew further and further apart.
From quite early on she self-identified as lesbian (and assumed I was gay), she also told me about her boyfriend who she'd come to visit. Later she took to sitting on my knee, then coming onto me, and getting physically overfamiliar. I had no intention of taking advantage, so this never went any further, and probably confirmed her opinion that I was gay.
Around half-past two she decided it was time to go, and managed to take everything that she'd brought into the flat with her, except for the now empty glass which she forgot.
It's interesting to note that nothing Liz said or did was outside the bounds of 'normal' behaviour. None of her ideas, however removed from reality, were things I haven't heard expressed by friends, family, work colleagues and others. Personally I've expressed some far more outlandish ideas. Some specifics, for instance the conflation of IS with the IRA, were perhaps new but equivalent conflations are familiar.
Likewise none of her actions were anything I haven't encountered in similar situations and contexts from other adults. Strangers getting very emotional? Of course. Strangers coming onto me or being perhaps inappropriately physical? Sure.
And yet the combination of all these things was identifiably out of the ordinary, but actually in a much more subtle way than it initially seems.
I'm not entirely certain why I wanted to post this, especially as I've had to change Liz's name and remove a lot of specific detail. I am interested in how narrow the lines are between someone who might be considered vulnerable, and someone who wouldn't be.
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