"Almost-rape" and consequential silences.

trigger warning: rape

"Keep your head down, don't say anything, get through this. After all, you don't want a reputation." - Advice from my mother on how to work with a man that I stopped from raping a friend of mine.

When Timothy raped me, I had no problems letting anyone who asked what I happened. On the other hand, when Timothy raped me, I had a piece of paper saying he couldn't come within 500 feet of me. This time, there were no calls to the police, nothing formal and legal ever filed, no protection of the truth except by its witness. No, I didn't call the police, I was too busy physically preventing a man from attacking an incapacitated woman. Believe me when I say that during those moments, it was not an option. Thus the greyest of grey areas was entered, the realm of the 'almost rape'.

He didn't actually rape her, but I can see how haunted she is by it. How she avoids events he might be at, how she sits in the corner of the bar to keep an eye on the door to make sure he doesn't 'happen' upon the very same bar; and the subtle hauntings that I can't figure out how to describe, but they're there in the thin layers of vulnerability that sit just under her skin.

It was supposed to be a party, that night. It was supposed to be a party, but the mixers weren't very good, and they ran out of beer fast, so I wasn't really drinking. It was supposed to be a party and it took me a while to figure out what happened, why the bedroom door had latched closed with such finality. It was supposed to be a party, our overlapping circles, social and work both. It was supposed to be a party. Instead it was night of hard choices and even harder consequences.

One of the choices was the silences I chose to keep, the decision on my part not to call the police, and the consequence of him still falling in those overlapping circles. He showed up at the place I'm interning and I hadn't spoken to him in months, but it felt exactly like the day after that party, with the choices hanging in the air between us, and the slow, steady panic of not knowing what to do.

Keep my head down, keep that silence, hold those consequences. Right?

Farmer's Market and Thunderstorms

I was already planning on waking up sometime between six and seven, but it was really nice to wake up to a thunderstorm. Rain! Thunder! Lightning! More rain! And then I willingly went out in it to the Mpls Farmer's Market!

The farmer's market, by the bye, is simply amazing. Yes, there are some booths there that sell grocery produce, but most of the booths sell delicious, home (mn) grown fruits and veggies. For a very good price, too! For $20 I got ...

six cucumbers (grown in MN)

a bushel of sugar snap peas (grown in MN)

a handful of yellow potatoes (grown in MN)

a honeydew melon (grown in MN)

a watermelon

a quart of strawberries (grown in MN)

I sampled the sugar snap peas from all the booths that had them, and then went back to the booth with the yummiest tasting ones. I was going to do that with the strawberries, but it was obvious which booth has the best ones. (Ohmygod, yes, in-season, locally grown, non-watered down and grocery-storeized strawberries are one of the best things on the planet.) The woman I ended up getting them from, told me after I sampled one and told her I would be back that when I came back, they would be gone. And she was close! When I bought them another woman there was buying up quart after quart after quart of them! And I was there at 7am! I'll bet she sold out well before 9.

I wanted some rhubarb, but a) I only had $20 on me and b) no-one had any that looked decent. Ahhh, maybe next week.