Tales From the Shelter – 3
‘Retarded Martha Stewart” drives everyone up the wall. Everyone. Besides her incessant chatter and talking ‘at you’ not ‘with you’, she preaches about ‘her personal gawd’ …she’s a christian bot, and under all her superficiality is one sick puppy.
I bought some marbles from the dollar store with my last pay cheque…i don’t have substance abuse problems so can stretch my cheque a little further then some. Marble. Good fun, reminder of youth , recalling cat-eyes, steelies and the such. I placed them outside on a table on the smoking deck. the table was make-shift….Retarded Martha had an empty , black plant pot out there that looked like a cremation urn. A fake silver tray made the table top. There the marbles sat.
The next morning I came out for my constitutional smokes and the ashtray was gone, along with the marbles. I lifted the silver tray and there was the ashtray. After lifting the ashtray up , there were the marbles mixed in with cigarette buts…a dirty little mess.
Someone tipped me off that Martha had done this while muttering something about ‘people’s crap’, so i confronted her. Martha’s eye go total bug when she’s afraid or on the defense. I’m thinking it must be an allergic reaction to her perfume, which smells like insect repellant. She told me Doreen had done it, I said bullshit, and Martha said to bring Doreen right to her.
retarded martha spends her days walking. She walks from downtown to west vancouver or kerrisdale, the neighbourhood she brags having lived in (some kinda living, she looked after an old man, moved herself in, took over, and the daughter had to have her removed). nevertheless, kerrisdale is her ‘mark’, her status, albeit a false one. Martha goes into high end hotels en route and gets free coffees and hones in on special lunches, pretending she’s a guest. she gets very aggressive and i’m sure the quest host people give her stuff just to keep her quiet. She was going to a travel service business everyday that offers it’s clients free coffee….they finally got tired of her and started charging her a dollar so she quit. I can see her there though, sitting with her legs crossed, her bleached blonde hair taking over the room, and giant teeth ready to chomp anything.
i see her rattling on to the clients and workers, “you know, i worked through something yesterday and my god forgave me . And that’s ok, you know, because i remember my chaplain reading a bible passage’ …………and on and on and on.
I told our ward’s supervisor about marblegate and she was holding her seething in. I informed her I told martha i am not speaking to her and to never speak to me. The supervisor said to leave it at that. Ever since, Martha can’t help herself and her guilt comes out in a heartfelt voice with things like, “hello, scout’ or ‘i’m sorry i hurt you, scout’. hurt? nuh uh, i got a demonstration in her sickness and don’t want to be around it, that’s all, pretty simple call if you ask me. But Martha continues to perplex our floor. She saunters onto the deck while everyone’s talking about something , wanting to know if we can see her bra under her top. Or her panties under her shorts. Or she wears her white dressing gown and sits with her legs up, secretly moving the housecoat back and down to expose as much thigh as she can. why….to us?
the table and chairs on the patio belonged to martha and in a snit over marble gate she removed them and took them to her room. it was hideous watching her wrestle with one of the white plastic chairs , brining it out from her room onto the deck so she could sit on it while she smoked, then bringing it back in with her when she was done. it was like the kid in grade one who always had to bring some huge thing to show and tell.
martha came out to the deck yesterday while i was discussing stephen harper’s move to host an international conference on women and children and divulge that canada would not give monetary support for abortions in developing nations. i said i would like to see mr. harper adopt some children from one of these nations….he’s rich, he could take in about 10 or so, right? I mean really, what does Laureen have to do besides addressing oppressive ‘real women’ groups and being a manequin in helping to strip our rights? martha got up, i’m sure she went to the chapel to pray for me.
everything’s all complicated right now with some women moving out to Hope House, the Armie’s next housing stage. It’s bachelor digs, downtown eastside , and not QUITE all independant living as it’s high barrier and i’m told some of the front desk clerks can be nazis.
My marbles are back on the deck for anyone to play with. Martha, stay away!
The supervisor has moved Martha’s volunteer duties to another floor in an attempt to sqelch an all out war against this sick piece of work. Life by rote must be difficult and I’m sorry she’s this insecure and probably had a shitty childhood and all but comes a point and I ain’t gonna let her put her illlness on me. Marbles over Martha anyday.