mucky birthday

wednesday 20 january 2016

it’s been my practice for a long time to write in this blog whenever ginger the mafia chick, or any of the undercover protectors, stage some kind of a performance at me. I’ve grown rather lax about that practice over the last couple of years. I’ve grown lax about writing in general.

matthew lacoy (this is not his real name, of course, but it’s the only one I’ve ever been told), the master of my protection and my so far unceasing torment, gave me a break for a long time. he did not put his body before my eyes for close to a year, from december of 2014 until 22 september 2015. it was a great relief. it’s been my contention for years (in 2008 I even wrote him a letter saying so) that if some protector has to do a bit of the endless code in front of me, or stand between me and someone who wants to hurt me, that it doesn’t have to be him. he has what feels like a million minions, and one of them can do whatever has to be done in front of my face. after preaching this message off and on for six years, I thought he’d finally received it. I thought he’d grown a fragment of a conscience.

think again, anne. were you not an idiot to think that he could ever grow something as alien to law enforcement as a conscience? you were.

he popped out this past september 22nd, when for the first time I brought my new grandson to main street in greenfield. in truth he didn’t just pop out in front of us, he was squatting on the sidewalk waiting for us when we parked the car. his next move was to come over very close to the stroller once we had the baby in it. he shadowed us two or three more times that day, as we moved from store to store.

I admit that it rattled me to see him come out for the baby. after months and months of staying out of my sight, here he is on the sidewalk waiting, here he is at the stroller, and in front of the jewelry store, and squatting at yet another store when we wheel the baby past. and that time, from his squatting position, he was nearly at eye level with the baby, and made this sweet, charmed little smile, the like of which I’ve never seen on matthew’s face before, as if to say: isn’t that baby so absolutely cute. and he is. he’s my only grandchild and I am hugely biased, but I do think he’s one of the prettiest and most facially expressive babies I’ve ever seen. apparently matthew was rather taken with him too. but it does cause me concern, still today, that after so many months of invisibility, he would come out and monitor us when we had the baby.

since that day, he has continued to get into my view nearly every time I go to main street, usually more than once. squatting  down and babysitting me when I am in a store, usually the store called zemi, and doing some of his other gambits as well. my grandson came again in december, and matthew dogged us a second time.

but the pièce de résistance was this past monday. it was my birthday. I went to main street to do things on my birthday with two friends (lucky accident of fate: at least this time I was not wading in the federal/mob muck alone).

he wasn’t waiting  on the sidewalk when we got out of our cars, but someone else was. our first stop was the health food store. I know from long and ugly experience that matthew uses this place as a sort of headquarters, partly because his cousin was for years a manager there. we were inside maybe 20 minutes when he made his grand move: he got right in between me and my friend at the coffee stand. his body was actually touching mine. when I turned my head and saw it was him I dashed away, of course, spilling a little trail of coffee all along my route.

we sat down inside and he went back to squatting outside in front of the store. we could see his head as we ate. actually, I could not eat the danish I had bought. I was too angry. lots of reasons for that anger, not the least of which being that after years of not making physical contact anymore, he suddenly decides he has to do it again, without an excuse me or a may I or any acknowledgment at all that I am indeed a person and not his federal property, that he is invading my personal space and that it is both rude and uncalled for. he may have to protect me, but he doesn’t have to touch me.

my original plan was to leave the health food store pretty quickly and go elsewhere, but I changed my mind. I wanted to see how long he would plague us. it was about 50 minutes. that’s how long my friends and I stayed, and that’s how long he glommed on. for a while it was no longer good enough to squat. he had to get right up on the store’s built-in bench (that’s where I met him lo these long years ago), right beside my friend. all that separated them was a thick pane of glass.

I was angrier than I’ve been in a very long time. from time to time I would go out on the sidewalk to smoke and rail about him and his federal ilk in a nice loud voice, rail while he sat there on the sidewalk listening and watching me. I did it inside the store too, and I would not cease. another federal boy, aaron, came to sit behind us in the dining area, and I railed about him as well.

eventually we went to other stores. matthew and another undercover sleaze called guy remained squatting in front of the health foods, and other protectors took up the babysitting as we moved further down the street.

when we went to eat at el greco, we sat watching the little parade of protectors pass by the window, and I pointed these people out to my friends. a couple of them came by more than once.

I’d planned to stay on main until 4:00, but the muck and the reason behind the muck wore me out. I quit at 2:40. one of my friends drove off and the other one took me with her. as she drove, she said to me: you’re safe from them now, you’re in the car. well we didn’t go far, only straight out the west end of main street to the dunkin donuts on the mohawk trail, a short distance in the merry haven of greenfield. we pull into a space and park the car, and there’s matthew. he’s sitting inside at a table with another man, and I am stunned. at the two tables beside him sit two more protectors, little bodyguards for him (I’ve seen this a few times before, on very bad days. while matthew guards me, he is also being guarded). I’m stunned because here he is again, and I thought I’d done with him for the day. but I’m also stunned because this is only the second time in seven and a half years that I’ve ever seen matthew sitting in a restaurant with anyone other than me, and the first time was way back in 2008. he is sitting with a man who is dangerous. I’ve had to be faced with dangerous men before. I can almost smell them.

while my friend goes in to get her coffee, I stand outside the window glaring in at him. I’m trying, if such a thing can be done, to pass the rage in my cells through the window and into his cells. I want him to feel how much I despise him and his colleagues. and I’m also studying, ananlyzing the body language and facial expressions of his little bodyguards, of him, and of the man sitting with him. I study them and know what’s up, because I have had years of practice doing this sort of analysis.

when we pull out of the parking lot, a light bulb of an idea turns on. I say to my friend: damn it, I should have gone into that place, marched up to him, and blown his cover again. I should have said you federal undercover slime, stay away from me. but my friend didn’t turned the car around, as I was hoping she would, and a fantastic and extremely rare opportunity was lost. I bitched about it for the rest of the afternoon: here was a little golden goose of a chance dropped in front of me, and I realized it about 3 minutes too late.

at my friend’s house, we watched on youtube a very short video in which a woman was saying: I hate the fbi with a boiling passion. I was clapping my hands. she had just finished describing a little psychological trick they had done to her that morning, a trick which has also been done to me many times. I could find out very little about this woman, but it seems she is either in or has refused to be in the witness protection thingy, WITSEC.

there have been people over these years who’ve thought me ungrateful. their thinking is this: the feds have kept you alive since september of 2007. stop hating them and be grateful. but I am autistic after all, and I do view life and people in a way that most neurotypicals find to be skewed. I still maintain, as I always have, that keeping me alive is one issue, and they have, yes, so far done an excellent job with that. but another issue is morality, and yet another is my status as a human being with both human and civil rights. my right, for instance, not to be used as mafia bait without my consent. my right to have had the agents come to my door in 2007 in their ugly suits and inform me of the trouble I was in, and inform me what was going to happen next, and locate me and my animals somewhere, and only use me as bait if I agreed to help them in this way. and the likelihood is great that I would indeed have agreed to help them as long as they were protecting me, because I am no fan of organized crime.

you can say that it is eight and a half years that they’ve kept me alive, but you can also say that it’s that same amount of time that they’ve treated me not like a person, but like a piece of property that they have bought and paid for. it is for this complete lack of morality that I despise them the most. I repeat that they are as sociopathic as the people they are fighting.

I haven’t been through these years of amoral, even cruel, undercover protection for nothing. I’ve learned many things about code, about undercover procedures, about matthew’s own particular style of mounting an operation. I know that what happened on my birthday happened because someone was in the health food store who wanted to hurt me on my birthday, and apparently wanted to do it right then and there. I usually, after so much time, can spot these people when they’re near me, but I was distracted by the presence of my friends and didn’t suss out whoever it was. in any case, my brithday wasn’t ruined because matthew had some malicious desire to do so, although I would really like it to be that. but I have learned, and I’ve had other days like monday. I know he ruined my birthday in order to keep me from physical harm. well done, matthew. does that feed your colossal ego enough? nonetheless I despise you.

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all photos, graphics, poems and text copyright 2008-2015 by anne nakis, unless otherwise stated. all rights reserved.

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