(I don’t deal in bullshit so I hope you did not come here looking to score any.
It seems that though I was well within Denise Charlton’s stomping grounds, what I ran into may well have been a doppelgänger, a double, because I saw her again today, in the same context, but a very different place. The likeness really is quite extraordinary. To make it worse, the person in question left a cell blackspot for an area of coverage just before @turnoffrl tweeted twice.
I posted a conclusive description on twitter, to avoid embarrassment if this was a, relatively innocent, stranger, and invited her to speak with me, she did not. I was completely freaked out, particularly as this person stood right against me at one point, in a very invasive way.
I cannot persuade myself that was Denise Charlton, because if it was it takes everything to a whole new level of weird. Even as a stranger the woman’s behavior to me was pretty off colour, and made it impossible to just ask her straight out. If she were a man it would automatically be deemed physical harassment. Whoever she is she will be very sorry if she stands up against me like that again.
I am leaving the article to stand because it is all about *my* spontaneous reactions to a person, not the person at all and, as such, remains relevant.)
We did today.
Unfortunately for me we ran into each other in one of the very few places I go to enjoy myself, and now I can never go there again.
I am not afraid of her (PUH-LEESE, she comes up to my waist!) I am afraid of me.
I will meet her, one on one, any time she stops being too scared to face me, but the self control required will take everything I have, as it did today.
Part of the reason I am writing this is so that I leave no way open to kid myself it will be ok and try to go back and forget about her. What happens when she catches me unawares, on the wrong day, when she has been gloating a bit too much over the power of her own lies? Or when she has been especially determined to whip up enough of a witchhunt to drive me to suicide, as anyone with half a brain would know, even from my public writing, would be a likely outcome, that she can easily lie her way out of, as she lies her way through everything else.
I shouldn’t have to give up something I love because of a sick little predator with too much power, but hey, in case you haven’t noticed a lot of stuff that should not happen happens to innocent, honest and decent people because of Denise Charlton.
Male sexual desire is the crop we harvest to survive and have some kind of life, but you harvest our lives, families and futures for nothing more than power and ambition. You do not even need the money, your life would be safe and comfortable whatever, because you are one of the lucky ones, who chooses to repay fate by returning ill for good, to anyone who cannot fight back.
There is no level on which I am prepared to accept that you believe your own lies. You are just not that stupid. You just do not care who you hurt as long as you get your own way.
The people you lie about and prey on are not even real to you. Just counters on a board that you move at will to validate your sense of your own superiority.
But listen here to me, not matter how smart we are, or how well we play the truly evil always have the edge, because you do not care about collateral damage, and we do, so we are forever handicapped in defending ourselves and each other from you.
So why didn’t I just let her have it?
We were not alone, she had a frail elderly woman with her, and there were other people I like and respect besides…all of these people have no idea about the vile little game she has set in motion, and if they knew the truth would probably be horrified, but they were not at that place, at that time, to get dragged into this.
I know she has made a career out of sacrificing innocent people’s lives to ambition, and that changes the rules, but it doesn’t change the rules to the point where *I* sink to her level and take it out on uninvolved innocents.
I suppose it means in the unlikely event of her ever being an innocent bystander in a situation I will have a perfect right to take it out on her, but I am not holding my breath.
She left, thank heavens, so I had a wonderful afternoon and thoroughly enjoyed every minute and every person, because I knew it had to be the last time.
Don’t feel sorry for me…Denise Charlton has cost me one of the few treats I enjoy, but her ambition and lies will cost some sex workers their homes, families and lives.
What she cost me is a great big nothing compared to that.
So anyway Denise, did you get what you came for?