A Series of Unfortunate Events

A Series of Unfortunate Events

I was debating about bringing this up in a blog for a while. I’m not sure if it really holds any strength in the world, but I felt like it was something that I had to share because it’s something that has seriously creeped me out.

I live in Lancaster, PA which is a rapidly growing city in southeast Pennsylvania about an hour from Philly. Lancaster is where I was born and raised and even after moving from Pittsburgh, to Tampa, I always ended up back here. It’s my home. In the last five years, Lancaster has grown in to quite the mini-Philadelphia, all the while being surrounded by farmland and Amish. It’s now an awesome melting pot of culture. All cities have their crime and violence, but ours has been pretty low–for the most part.

I am a banquet event manager in a recently completely remodeled restaurant that is thriving. I love my job. It’s right in the center of the city and is an amazing environment to work in. The loading dock to our restaurant faces a very small alley that a lot of time homeless folks are meandering around. I always enter the restaurant through the loading dock and often see people rooting through the trash or hanging out by the entrance to the park right beside us.

Recently two things have happened in this area that were pretty disturbing. One of our bartenders witnessed someone OD’ing on heroin in the alley way. Thankfully, he responded quickly and called an ambulance but if no one else had been there, someone could have possibly found a dead person behind the restaurant. Terrifying! I know heroin has blown up in the outskirts of Lancaster lately, but this really put it in to perspective. These people have no where else to go and turn to drugs as a release. An escape from their unfortunate reality. I’ve been there, I’ve done it, and it’s absolutely terrifying. I hope the man survived and I also hope it was a wake-up call for him.

As employees, we are lucky enough that our company pays for us all to be able to park in the lot right behind the alley, since parking is pretty hard to find downtown (and somewhat expensive) especially on a Friday night! BUT, the parking garage also turns in to a hideaway for those who have no where else to go.

It was Valentine’s Day this year that I encountered the second event that I feel a need to share. There are seven floors to this parking garage and on this day I had to park on the 5th. As I was walking toward the stairway to go down to the street level, I saw a man standing in the vestibule. He looked dirty and was facing out the glass towards the cars. One of his hands was down around the button of his pants and the other hand was holding a cell phone that he was staring intently at.

At first, I didn’t think much of it and assumed he was just reading a text message on his way down the stairs. But as I got closer, I realized there was a “rubbing” motion going on with the hand near the opening of his pants. He was masturbating in the stairway! I saw the tip! I quickly turned around and went the other way, grabbing the MASE out of my purse. I decided to completely avoid the stairs and and circled around the spiral of cars until I made it to the bottom.

What if he was just waiting for a woman, or even a man, to walk in that stairway vestibule?

I quickly went in to the restaurant and called the police. Unfortunately, by the time they made it there, he was gone.

It’s so scary to me that in this Trump era, that these kind of things are starting to happen in our little town, or anywhere for that matter. It brings back that impending feeling of doom that I was talking about in my previous blog.

If anyone sees anything like the last two events that I wrote about, call the police immediately or call the ambulance if you see someone in trouble. You could be saving a life.

—a very concerned sloth

Life Terrors

Life Terrors

I don’t dream very often. Or if I do, I don’t remember my dreams when I wake up. However, the last few nights I have been having some very vivid dreams. I guess they are more like nightmares because I wake up terrified and feel paralyzed from fear. I remember the first dream I had like this, I was pretty young. I believe I was in 7th grade and it was right after 9/11. I didn’t even know what the Twin Towers were when everything went down, I was confused about why it was such a big deal. But I remember everyone’s reactions more than anything. Were were in school when it happened–Ms. Liesman’s science class. At the time, one of the elementary schools in our district was being remodeled so there were about 100 1st-3rd graders that were re-located to our middle school. Ms. Liesman tried as calmly as possible to tell us what happened, but we weren’t allowed to turn on the TV’s or talk about it because the administration didn’t want to scare the little kids. Shortly after that, we were all sent home from school. My mom was still at work when I got home. A good 3-4 hours or so passed until she got home from work and was really able to explain the magnitude that happened earlier that day.

About a week post-9/11, I had he dream. I was outside with another person, I no longer remember who they were. And we were in a farm-type location at night. There were lots of dilapidated barns and sheds. When, suddenly, it looked like comets were crashing out of the sky and hitting the farm. We took refuge under a the roof of a shed, but we could still see people getting hit by the ‘comets’ and dying. I was terrified. It was the first thing that I experienced that made me realize; there are something things that humans have absolutely no control over.

This same feeling resurfaced not too long after when our Grammie took my sister and I to the movie theaters. She always took us to Kendig Square, which was the red-headed stepchild of movie theaters in the area. It was old and dirty, and your feet stuck to the floor when you walked to your seat, but it only cost $2 per person to go see a semi-new movie. And there were never any employees roaming around, so if we went to see a movie and we didn’t like it, she would sneak with us to the theater room right beside it and try out a different one. Anyway, we were there and all the lights were turned off because “Babe: Pig In The City” was in full swing at this point and I found myself wondering … what if someone dropped a bomb on this building right now? We are in complete darkness … we would never know! Everything would just explode and it would happen so fast, we would suddenly be dead and we would have no idea why!

This looming fear of impending doom still follows me in to my late 20’s. What with Trump being president and refugees and other immigrants being shipped out of the country. I had two dreams in the last week that I feel the need to share because even though I don’t know exactly what they mean, they relate a lot to what is going on in the world right now.

The first dream/nightmare was really bizarre and terrifying. I had just parked in the parking garage at work and was starting to leave the garage and head inside. As I was walking downstairs, I noticed that there were homeless refugees hiding in the parking garage along a few parking spaces. After hearing about many scary things happening with homeless people in this garage, I chose to look straight forward and keep walking. But by the time I made it to the exit door, I felt extremely guilty. So I turned around and headed back to my car. Conveniently, I had a bunch of blankets and food in my trunk. So I took everything out and gave it to the refugees. They were very thankful and happily took my donations.

Cut to me sleeping later that night (I know! I was sleeping in my own dream!) and was woken up by our smoke alarm going off downstairs… Ryan didn’t wake up 😛 So I jumped out of bed and ran downstairs, trying to figure out what I was going to do because for whatever reason, we do not own a fire extinguisher (we should probably get one now). When I got to the kitchen, the fire was coming out of the oven and there was a pitchfork stuck in the floor–fork end sticking up– in front of the oven that was quickly becoming engulfed in flames. Sitting beside the pitchfork was one of the refugees and he said that he was doing this to teach me a lesson and that we were going to sit at the dining room table, in the fire, until I realize what a horrible person I was by initially walking past him and his family, when I first saw them in the parking garage earlier that day.

I was woken up, for real, by a thud downstairs. More than likely our cats playing, but the whole dream was so vivid and realistic that I was frozen. I was so scared that I couldn’t move. It was 4:00AM and I couldn’t go back to sleep.

The second dream was a little more hazy and short but still woke me up in complete fear. I was in a dark basement, I don’t know where and I don’t know why. In that basement, there were three cages lined up against the wall. I suddenly hear footsteps coming down the stairs and, believe it or not, it was Donald Trump and he had three women with him, one for each cage. He pushed them in to the cages and when I started to object to him doing this, he told me not to worry. It was ok, he was just putting them in there for a few hours to teach them a lesson. But I knew. I knew he wasn’t just putting them in there to teach them a lesson. Even if that’s all he was doing, it still doesn’t make it ok! I knew he was putting them in there and leaving them there to die. And that’s when I woke up.

Much like the dream I had when I was in middle school, right after 9/11, I can’t stop thinking about these dreams. They are seriously haunting and I wish I knew what they meant. Will the refugees ever be able to live a happy life in this country? Will Donald Trump knock back women’s rights 50 years? It’s things that I, as a single human being, have absolutely no control over–much like the 9/11 attacks. But I do have a voice, which is why I decided to write about this. I, as a single person, may not be able to do a whole lot about these issues just by myself, but we all need to be aware of them as a whole. And as a community–as a country–we can work together to fight against changes that should not happen in the United States. We have come too far as  a country to let “Tiny Trump” send all immigrants back to the countries they originated from after living here for years, or strip away the basic human rights that women fought for, for years (the pussy will grab back).


So stand tall. And even if you only whisper, at least you are saying something. Do not stay silent.

—Even in downward-facing sloth, you can hear me breathing.