So, I was sitting in the kitchen, consciously keeping my cool, and pretending to actually like this bunch of scumbags (to avoid any aggro). Then this absolute gobshite walks in...I've been messing with his tiny head for the past few weeks. Every time I come in he claims I'm a reporter...which I suppose I am...whaddup blog yo!...joke...I certainly wouldn't consider this blog something a significant amount of people will read...although I hope so. He always eyes me up and down suspiciously and asks me the same question 'what newspaper do you work for?'. Predictably, he asked me the same question last night...'The Sun' I replied 'and the Irish Times'...doped out of his head, a moment later he had forgotten...maybe he saw a fleck of dust or something? Then *Mary walked in back from a long hard day trudging the streets of Dublin...Mary is the woman aforementioned. She is no younger than fifty five. Winking she said 'I'll give you that interview later', clearly trying to wind up the retard sitting beside her 'oooohhhh' I say 'great I'll talk to you later'. Then within a matter of minutes, the gobshite (we'll call him John) erupted. Firstly he knocked Mary's flask over, and when she confronted him he began a disgraceful onslaught of abuse. I can't remember most of it...but seeing this huge man in his early twenties shouting and intimidating a frail elderly woman, with missing teeth was both horrifying and nauseating. I actually felt physically ill after a while...as the abuse continued. She tried to stand up for herself but the drugged up male continued to spit bile into her face calling her a 'geebag' and 'an old witch'...she retorted by calling him a 'knacker' and a 'scumbag' (she was not wrong). The staff finally intervened, and by intervened I mean they stood there watching the drama unfold, completely 'non judgmentally'. They basically let this man continue to bully and intimidate this old woman for a further ten minutes...and refused to step in unless he began to approach her looking for a physical fight. They literally stood there, waiting to stop him from hitting her...but otherwise, totally tolerating the blitz of venom targeted at this poor woman. So, I interposed, backing her up...she was having a go at the staff at this stage (understandably) 'you do nothing!!!' she screamed in desperation, food was flying out of her mouth, because she was taking a bite of food when John decided to torment her. She was visibly shook up, and utterly defenseless. You could hardly call me a defense, because they would have easily started at me if given half a chance. I told her to leave, but I have been in that situation before, and when you spend time cultivating a rapport with someone and they throw it back in your face so aggressively, retaliation is a natural response. As I watched the drama unfold, I realized that no one was defending her. It was a classic example of 'bully' and 'victim'...and no sides were being taken. The movie 'A Bronx Tale' resonates well here. Everyone was scared of this man, so no one said anything, for fear of being his next target. However, if any one is going to intervene, you'd think it would be the staff...but nothing happened. The staff have shunned this old woman, presumably thinking if she's not hard enough to defend herself, she's not hard enough for these places. They probably think of her as an insane posh lady, who is probably of her rocker, hence the reason she is in these places. But I have been in her situation, more times than I'd care to reflect on, and that is a crock of shit! She is simply traumatized. Apparently, this is a daily occurrence, and what I witnessed last night is 'nothing' compared to what she has experienced in the past. Apparently, she was beaten up by a gang of women in the past in these places, and she has been enduring a surge of abuse from these spaced out scumbags for the past seven months, every night when she comes in to eat her dinner and watch a bit of t.v. She also had numerous cups of tea thrown at her in the past. And all because...she doesn't take drugs, and has a posh accent. Charming.
Later, I asked her why she didn't make a report and she said 'because they do nothing! The staff love all this and it is what keeps them relevant'. I spent two hours following the incident sitting beside her, while the staff walked around the building. One member of staff even started cleaning the filthy kitchen, in a vain attempt to make it marginally better. All the while Mary was in a heap, shaking, and having a visible panic attack in the corner. Not one member of staff tried to console her. It was left to me, because pretty much everyone else in the room were more than happy to see her face get eaten off. None of them like 'sobers' like me and her. The staff don't like us either, they probably assume we have somewhere else to go, and are taking up the bed of someone in real need...someone...say, on drugs. It is a clear prejudice in these places and I am beyond sick of it. They don't even hire a cleaner any more in Richmond street, I suppose they assume the place is just going to get filthy again, anyway...what's the point, like? Later on I confronted the staff, and when I asked to write a report they said they had 'no report sheet'...because 'people generally don't make reports'...weird. Then when I asked them if they could give me the name of the man who visibly verbally attacked this elderly woman, they said 'we can't give out names...it's our policy'...it's like every homeless hostel has a different policy. I was staying in an STA several months ago, and if an incident happened...you would fill out a report, names would be provided, and it would be dealt with the following morning. Seemingly, that rule does not apply here. Mary later told me, that Richmond house is primarily for elderly men who are on drugs...well that makes sense. Although, after trawling through google I have found nothing online about Richmond street. For all I know, it could be a frigging family run homeless hostel...
The staff in Richmond street have really let me down, with both their lack of action, and attitude.
I feel sick.
No comments:
Post a Comment