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Wednesday, July 22, 2009

MLAAW: Getting Baked

In the early 90’s I was a college drop out working as a cashier with the local grocery store located less than a mile from my home, which was fortunate because I still didn’t have my driver’s license. I had moved into my first home and was officially an adult. Being newly independent I gathered the courage to come out to my family and dealt with the repercussions. Though my close friends knew I was gay, I will still largely private about my personal life.

As the only male cashier, I learned a few things rather quickly. Most courtesy-clerks (that’s bag boys to you lay people) are young men. Young men usually like young women, so it stands to reason that most bag boys aren’t eager to bag for male cashiers. I often found myself having to ring up and subsequently bag large orders. In some instances I even had to log off my register and take the customers groceries out to their cars. (Remember when bag boys did this without you having to ask them?)

Then Adam was hired. Adam was a new arrival to our town, the son of a preacher-man as the song goes. He was a bit younger than me, blond, and popular. But Adam wasn’t like the other boys, or so I thought. He was always eager to bag for me, & often offered to give me a ride home, which I often took him up on. I wasn't the only one who noticed that Adam was so nice to me and so I got it in my head that he liked me and my friends agreed.

I gathered up the courage to let Adam know that I liked him and that I was open to “whatever.” It turned out that Adam was…just a nice guy. The following day I got strange looks from other people at work, and then I noticed a girl kept coming through my line and acting strangely. She wouldn’t say a word to me, but just stand there and glare at me with arms cross and a permanent scowl on her face. I later learned that this girl was Adam’s girlfriend.

A few days later a big, dumb, jock (BDJ) came through my line. He was tall, muscular, and angry. BDJ was Adam’s older brother, coming to defend Adam’s good name. From what I gathered, Adam told all his friends that I came on to him and when it got back to his family, I was blamed for spreading the story that Adam was gay. BDJ wasn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer or he would figure that I wouldn’t be spreading a story where I was basically humiliated.

To add to my humiliation BDJ somehow thought that committing violence against me on my job in front of all my co-workers and customers would somehow make things right. Luckily the police station was right next door and BDJ was removed before he could do anything to me. However, for me no beating could have hurt me more than the public humiliation that I had suffered, now for the third time.

I went home that Tuesday night and I was angry to say the least. I absolutely hated BDJ and I wanted him to hurt, I wanted him to hurt as much as I was hurt, more so. I wanted him to hurt so bad he’d never be a threat to anyone ever again. Being a young witch, I thought I was all that and decided to enact my revenge.

I wrote BDJ’s name on a potato. I held that potato in my hands and pretending it was BDJ I said everything to him that I wish I could have said when he confronted me. I really worked myself up a cussin’ and a sass’ing him. I put all the anger into my little potato-poppet. I took a knife and I stabbed that potato like it was Janet Leigh in the shower. Then I baked the potato in the microwave and mushed it up with a fork. Finally, I tossed the potato out my back door on the other side of the stream that flowed past my house.

The following Friday night, BDJ decided to drive drunk and wrapped his car around a telephone pole. He was in a coma for a number of months. When he finally awoke he’d lost his muscle mass and most of his cognitive skills. He had to be taught to walk, talk, and take care of himself all over again.

I cannot say with any certainty that his accident was a result of my spell or his own foolish decisions. Perhaps it was a little of both. Some would say that the spell was justified, whereas others might respond that BDJ’s accident was a result of his own karma and that perhaps there was a lesson that he was needed to learn. Perhaps his accident gave him the chance to be reborn in a fashion and correct the wrongs of the past.

However, this incident had a powerful effect on me. It made me realize the awesome responsibility that we as magic-makers have with this power we wield. I learned not to use it lightly. Since this time I’ve done a lot of growing up both physically, mentally, and spiritually. Should a situation similar to this occur to me today, I would defiantly react much differently.

Carolina Dean

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

Hi,
What a powerfully thought provoking post. As a new reader of your blog, I wanted to let you know how much I enjoy your writing. I have to go back to catch up.
Blessed be!

Lodestone and Ladys Mantle said...

I think that Terry Pratchett put it best: Being a witch is about knowing when NOT to use magic. I think experiences like this, getting our fingers burned early, are good for up and coming Witches. Learning early on that magic is real and has real effects and consequences saves a lot of play-acting later on. Thank you for sharing that story... what happened in the aftermath?

Carolina Dean said...

I eventually left the Piggly Wiggly and never looked back. Adam is now married and has a least one child. I don't know where BDJ is, although I attempted to find some information online.

I found Adam and his youngest brother, but nothing on BDJ...so i really don't know.


Dean