Tag Archive: Customer Service


Glyn y Mul Farm

22 months ago I was on Glyn y Mul Farm campsite for a week, in Aberdulais near Neath in Wales.  It was only a week because it went badly wrong.  I had hoped it was going to be OK, it seemed as if it might be.  I was on my own.  The first night I slept in the cabin where the staff work because I didn’t have a tent until it was delivered, then they lent me a tent which I used for a few days.  The staff seemed friendly enough, except for the fact that one of them, Mark, every time he appeared, was effing and blinding in front of me.  The old man touched me.  I kept quiet about it at first, because I wasn’t sure if I should be offended or not.  Also, there was a washroom which was open to the outside in that it had nothing up at the window to shield users from people walking past, and several times when I was using it the men found a reason to walk past.

Eventually I got my tent and one of the staff put it up for me.  He was an eastern European, I can’t remember where from.  But I found at bedtime that I couldn’t zip up the flap and it was frosty, and because I didn’t want to bother anyone with it late in the evening it stayed open all night and the frost got inside.  I had a very cold night’s sleep.

When I emerged the next day I met Ian, the campsite owner, in the kitchen, and he asked me if everything was all right.  I said no, I couldn’t zip my tent up, and also told him that Ted, the old man, had touched me.  His response was that if I was saying that, I should leave as soon as possible.  I didn’t realise he meant immediately until he snatched my tea out of my hand and started forcing me off the stool I was sat on.  I had thought he might mean in a couple of days, to at least give me time to sort myself out.  I had bought a fair bit of camping equipment a day or two before and I had no transport of my own.  But he grabbed me by the arm and started forcing me out of the kitchen and into Ted, who was standing there, and he fell over.  Ian started accusing me of pushing him down, I said I had been pushed into him, Ian said he had 3 people there who had seen nothing.  He kept pushing and pulling at me, calling me a disgraceful woman and telling me not to go back there.  He said I was now homeless and owned nothing.  The things I had bought I had bought with money my uncle had lent me.

I went to the police (Ian is an ex-policeman) and they kept me ages.  All the time I was giving a statement they were talking and jeering in the next room.  I had gone to the wrong area and they found a hotel for me overnight and told me to go back to Neath the next day.  I can’t remember, I don’t think I did, not to the police station anyway.  I was too intimidated.  Ian’s handling of me left a big bruise on the inside of my forearm which took 3 weeks to fade.  I emailed them twice about my belongings but they didn’t reply.  When I called it theft to the police they said that technically it wasn’t theft.  Regardless of police technicalities, of course it was theft.  They deprived me of all my belongings which I had had with me at the time – clothes, mobile phone, books, food, all my camping equipment – because I, a woman on my own and vulnerable, told an ex-policeman that one of his staff had touched me and I had expected proper treatment instead of what I got.  That was a bent copper.  Also it was an appalling way for a commercial enterprise to deal with any complaint, let alone one of this nature.  They will have other women and children there, yet they dealt with me like this.

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On Sunday morning 5th February between 9 and 10 am I was in the O2 Shopping centre at Finchley Road, NW3.  I have never been in there before or got off in the area for years.  I had noticed an express hotel while passing on a bus and although they had no rooms, they were happy for me to buy tea and coffee through the night and buy breakfast.

I decided after standing at the bus stop for a little while that I would go in and see what was there, see if I could get a cup of coffee.  I went into Starbucks at just after 9am.  A young policeman came in directly behind me and as soon as I had finished asked for a fuckochino.

I’m sitting in Caffe Nero at the moment fighting for emotional possession of what should be mine to possess, where they have repeatedly looked at me as if I am a nuisance since I came in, and they are trying to do some sort of operatic thing behind the counter.  I’m finding it distracting and an act of sabotage, at least in terms of emotional connection, so my writing is hurting me.  I heard something recently which makes me feel that the police might have leaked a photograph of me to people and places like these, or maybe this is just the way they deal with people they really don’t like the look of and don’t want around.  I say again, schizophrenia is imposed by ruling dishonest savages and is not inherent in the person.  They advertise free internet here, but seem to be doing everything they can to distract me in my use of it.  It is not supposed to be their creative space to the distraction of the customers.  If I wanted opera I’d pay for it or find it on the internet.  I certainly don’t want to be involved in an angry psychic improvisation in a way that totally grabs at and demands my attention, for whatever reason.  It is 8.07 am at Canary Wharf.  It seems there is a wave they grab at with singing every time I start to think and feel.  I feel fear and distress and hurt and anger.  Betrayal and discrimination.

But back to Starbucks in the O2 shopping centre at Finchley Road.  And if I don’t manage to write all I know is in me to write, I might hopefully be able to come back to it later.  These coffee bar people seem to think they are the new 5 star hotel staff or the aristocracy themselves, but that goes for all service staff everywhere, in my experience.  Always imposing themselves, no discretion or sensitivity.  They have the rights, they say in writing, and their power is always upheld.  But we are paying and they are the paid.  So if they distract or impose themselves it is an act of theft, as much as anything.  I know my recent writing must have done the grapevine, and they are deliberately trying to distract me.  That is harassment.  I’ve never been in here before.

I asked the policeman if he had asked for a fuckochino, and his mate (3 or 4 others had joined him, including a woman.  I only remember one but maybe there were two) said to him ‘did you ask for a fuckochino?’ and he said ‘yes, I did’, and they made a joke of it.  I talked about verbal assault and harassment and went and sat down with my coffee.  I sat in a corner as far away as I could manage in the hope that it would keep them away from me, and also there was an electrical socket to plug my laptop into, which was what I needed.

Anyway, they sat level with me, but on the other side of the room.  They sat there effing and blinding loudly for ages and no one challenged them.  They were talking about crazy, crazy cat and vegan frappacino, which is something I had quite a lot in Starbucks when the weather was warmer.  They have told me their syrups are all vegan, so I have it made with soya milk and without cream.

Shortly after they started this a man came in with his young daughter.  I think from memory she was around 10 years old.  I had noticed her on the escalator earlier.  She had lovely long red hair.  They sat in front of me facing me, and I hoped they wouldn’t leave as I saw their presence as my safety and protection.  But these officers must have gone on for about 20 minutes or more in this vein, and eventually one of them said something about the position being clear.  They seemed to be watching my reaction and gathering from it that I was not going to get involved, but blog.  Soon afer he said about the position being clear I said my position was that I didn’t like them sitting there harassing me and using that language, which anyone else might have been arrested for, and talking about crazy.  Although they went quiet as I was speaking they didn’t acknowledge me, but I think they left in a sort of silence a minute or two later, no apologies to me or to anyone else.

Afterwards I sat there confused, feeling as if the attention was a positive thing and that it would be treacherous, unreasonable and perverse of me to find anything wrong with it and to try to expose it.  I thought they were trying to centre with me, perhaps, and stripping themselves of all decency to make me feel secure and communicate that they wanted to talk to me and wanted me to trust them.  What else, after all, is supposed to be communicated by their lovely smart uniforms and their clean, fresh appearance?

Then I thought what if it was someone else being treated like that?  If I accepted it as positive for myself it would be saying it was OK to do to someone else.  And at Heathrow I was arrested for swearing.  Mine was in desperation and anger but theirs was a constant stream of non-stop, jocular, almost barrack room stuff.  And there was a little girl and her father hearing it all.  Recently they have been saying to me that there are children around when I have been angry with them, and I have said that I didn’t care.  In the situation it was emotional blackmail.  These officers did not care that this little girl was party to this behaviour.  I’m not sure they thought about her at all.  They could see her.  When they have challenged me with the statement that there were children around, I couldn’t even see them.

I was thinking last night about something I have read quite often, that there are people with such low self-esteem that even negative attention is seen as something to be desired.  That is me.  In the presence of such a clean image, even if they are acting like that, I feel like such a low life that I deserve it, or that they are even engaging in an act of kindness to tell me that they are approachable.

But yesterday I thought (I have just looked at the girl behind the counter.  She looks very angry and defiant of me.  She knows as well as I what they are doing) would anyone want their mother or grandmother or wife or daughter or any other female to be treated that way?  If I ‘OK-ed’ it for myself, would anyone else thank me for that?

I stopped to think just now and when inspiration began to come, when I started to level out with my own emotions and thoughts, one of the girls behind the counter said ‘here we go again’.  It is a deliberate act of control and sabotage.  They have just started singing again in the same harassing way.  I was not going to write about them, but since they are taking from me the things I am wanting to write about, they have brought it on themselves.  I’m not sure who they are doing it for.  Every time I stop to feel an emotion they whine it out.  That is a statement of fact, not hatred speaking.

I can’t go into it in depth in these conditions, I can’t access depth language and expression or thought or memory reconstruction, but I was feeling that I have lost my sense of where the boundary lines ought to be, that I felt guilty about not accepting their behaviour with gratitude in the first place, and that I still do.  The officers were completely inappropriate in their behaviour, and it would have been equally inappropriate with or without the presence of the child, and whether it had been public or private.

So that is it.  That is that incident from Sunday.  There were about 4 or 5 others over the course of the weekend, but this one was completely unsolicited in a place I have never been in before.  I’m almost afraid to make such a categorical statement, but I believe it cannot be OK.  However extraordinary the situation, proper procedure and approach should always be adhered to.

I told the girl’s father that I loved her red hair and thought it was beautiful.  I did think it was beautiful, and I wanted to say so, because there are so many instances of redheads being bullied and I read about one recently, and I wanted to affirm her.  Afterwards I felt as if I might have been stupid.  I tried to stop the father as he was leaving and apologise if my comment had been stupid, but although I think he heard me say ‘excuse me’ he didn’t stop.  At the time I only saw them as being a protection for me.  I didn’t think about them being equal victims of the situation at all.

A few minutes ago the girl behind the counter said loudly, angrily and challengingly ‘I’m spiritual’.  She has loudly said ‘sorry’ a couple of times, but not to me, though it was meant for my hearing.

A few weeks ago I read and commented on a blog called ‘disable me’.  I feel as if I am being conceited even to mention it and to say this is a deliberate attempt to disable and control.  The way she is talking at the moment I have an image of someone parading themselves angrily on a platform and insisting on being acknowledged and looked at.

Finished 9.32 am

She has just said ‘baby’.  And now she is singing Cum by ya, and has gone into mocking singing.

Edit 9.42  They are openly and derisively miaowing at me.  It is savage.

Please read my last post.  It was tagged but WordPress has not allowed it in this category.  Thanks.  Sorry it rambles a bit.  Since writing this they have put a link at the bottom of my post to another called ‘A Couple of Technical Questions’.  They say it is automatically generated, but everyone does this and I know what they have in mind, whatever they mean by it or intend, and those questions are matters for the police, not stalking and harassment.  I suggest they should shut up or put up.  They should go to the police.  I am not afraid, in fact I wish they would.  I’ve already talked to the police.  They won’t be telling them anything they don’t know already.

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