BULLETIN … UPDATED …
Much like when I saw the KWQC headline moments ago, “Historic Col Ballroom to close,” I had a mix of anxiety good and bad when “Tony Martinez” (I hope that’s his real name) showed up to buy my Adirondack chair and table.
Why? Because I immediately recognized his vehicle as part of a fleet of vehicles that had been following me for quite some time, and that I assumed were protecting me. All navy blue, tinted windows, little low-rider SUVs.
I thought he was part of a group called Boots on the Ground. Why? Because I had reported a SUSPECTED crime at a scary house few doors down with a trampoline in the front yard. After I reported it, several brand new children’s combat boots were placed, lined up, on the ground. Across the sidewalk of the home’s front yard, to be exact.
Here is the Boots on the Ground Facebook page. For my final year in Rock Island, 90 percent of my support seemed to come from blacks and Hispanics in terms of true, genuine, support of any kind when I needed it, whether it was soap, toilet paper or prayer.
I had been selling my items on the Facebook Marketplace to survive and to avoid selling my home. When Tony pulled up in that vehicle, I felt safe. When he got out, I noticed him.
I’m not ashamed to admit that. As my former sexless ex-husband Scott Smith of downtown Rock Island Holiday Inn fame used to say, “A girl’s gotta eat.”
Tony told me he was gay. No big deal, except he was masculine, polite, bought my chair, paid more than I asked if I am not mistaken, and he told me his parents (maybe it was his aunt and/or uncle) own a local icon for which I have great respect.
And he’s Hispanic and pretty good looking.
But he also told me he has a partner. So, ‘down boy’ for me.
He referenced his partner and he referenced having attended gay pride, which I believe was that weekend or that day, or maybe the weekend or day prior. There had been an anti-gay incident at the gay pride, too, that made headlines locally.
While I thought what was reported sounded awful, I have no sympathy for the LGBT of filthy Quad-Cities, particularly the bar community that organizes these events. It’s sad, because now I feel alienated by all gay people. I have been so profoundly abused.
But I’ve met some cute, nice, gay guys right here in Denver. I’m not going to let corrupt Quad-Cities destroy my life and my sexuality, because let me tell you, it has.
I do know I am attracted to women, too. But only sexually, in terms of intimacy. I never could marry one because I am not wired to trust them or nest with them.
I never have had sex with a woman. I never have wanted to. I feel abused by them and don’t trust them.
But in the past year, I think about it. But, I would not want to marry one, because I just can’t trust them deep down.
And, I’m far more sexually attracted to men, overall. Sex is a continuum. Nobody is totally straight, totally gay. Some may be. Rare.
But I like men of mutual persuasion both ways, sexually and intellectually/companionship-wise, so long as I can trust them.
Not convinced handsome Tony all good
I still remain confused about many things. If I had it all figured out, well …
Here’s the thing. I actually do think the navy blue low-rider SUV vehicles were officially protecting me. I think they might have been US Marshall’s Service vehicles.
Because when things got really “hot” (arrests throughout my community, like now) there would be one car down below and up above while I’d mow my grass (my yard had double frontage and was sloped).
My next-door neighbors clearly appeared to be bodyguards, and I won’t get into all of that or why. Another chapter. I’m sorry I did not get to know them better, if started off good and turned south.
I’m sure they know that leaving was the right decision for me. They know it better than anyone.
At any rate, the “official” cars always were sparkling. Tony’s was dusty and a lot of stuff in the back.
LOL, not that THAT makes any difference.
But I do notice
My therapist Valerie Olson of Southpark Psychology (I’ve had extensive cognitive behavioral therapy, at least twice weekly several years, to treat the CPTSD and permanent disability resulting from the jail abuse) said it best:
“I never thought about the fact that you’re a journalist and trained to pay close attention to things.”
Yep. And hyper-vigilant with chronic PTSD.
I bet my pal Brian Krans, author of “Assault Rifles and Pedophiles,” understands that sentiment.