People say I'm weird

Weird library encounters. I'm told they happen all the time. For those who find my email whinings unremarkable, check out this latest melodrama...

Being Watched

Picture me at one of Toronto's larger libraries. Oooh, lots of potential for evil-doing (hehe). The security guards always seem to recognize me. Have I mentioned before how I believe the government works with security guards to carry out surveillance and harassment activities?

Anyway, I find a quiet corner to sit in, and write notes. Moving a potted plant slightly, I settle myself against the wall (pics to come). Two hours later, two security guards show up, demanding I vacate the spot, immediately.

(How'd they even notice me? And why two guards? Intimidation, perhaps?)

I tell them, I'm not causing any problems. Yet, they insist I move, or I'll be kicked out of the library. (Huh??) They warn me that they've already kicked somebody else out. For what reason? They mutter something about him sitting where he's not supposed to. I ask if it was today. They hesitate, and say, yes.

'Why do I need to move?' (My usual bad habit of questioning authority.) 'It's a staff area.' Really? 'Yes, the manager over there wants you to move.' Good, I'll speak to her. I politely ask for their names, but they're not supposed to give them to people.

One security guard, then, says to me, 'There are rules, and we must follow them' (meaning me). I reply, 'It'd be nice if those in power followed those rules, too.' (silence) I then offer to 'write a letter to the library's management to document and explain the situation.' They still order me to move. I say, 'Fine,' and they leave.

(I probably sound like an uppity bitch, but you'd have to experience the situation, knowing these people are purposely singling you out - repeatedly. I've had many unusual encounters at this library, with total strangers.)


Being Followed

Ten minutes later, I lug my ever-heavy bag and belongings to another spot, close by. Seven book aisles away, to be exact. As I do so, a Caucasian man of medium height, with a moustache, longish hair, and a slight beer belly, scopes the place I was just sitting in, then, seems to follow me intently.

I leave my bag, and walk to a different section of the library to browse. He follows me there, as well. I glance at the book shelves, then head back. He steps right in front of me, and says, 'Oh, is that your bag back there?' I say nothing. He repeats, '-your bag, is that your bag over there?' I act like I don't know what he's talking about, so he walks off.

Following me through a main study area, and past 12 rows of bookshelves, to ensure my belongings are okay is a little too nice, I'd say.


Being Wooed?

The drama doesn't end there. At 6:30pm, I leave the library, and one security guard signals to another one.* Heading outside, a slim South Asian man of medium height, fair complexion, with glasses, seems to keep pace with me. (I slow down, he slows down; I speed up, he speeds up.) Then, he comments, 'Nice weather.' I ignore him, and keep walking. He catches up with me, and says, 'You know, you look really familiar to me.' I abruptly cross the street.

This kind of thing has happened to me sooo many times in the past year. Way too many. So I may sound bitingly sarcastic, but I wonder how you'd feel in these contrived encounters?

Whenever I describe these scenarios to people - including my therapists - they suggest that there are other ways to interpret these situations. Eg, these men are probably trying to pick you up, they're just being friendly, or, there are lots of weirdos around, etc. Uh-huh, okay.

Here's the thing about psychiatry, folks: No matter what you say, as a patient, everything is suspect. That, in itself, can make you crazier than you were to begin with.

*This same security guard had once accosted me outside the library building (notes to come).


Here's another 'weird' scenario:

After attending award-winning journalist Stevie Cameron's talk on Ethics and Journalism**, a tall, well-groomed, bespectacled man in a suit asked me in a clipped tone, if I could 'spare some change,' so he could take the subway. Yet he seemed to be waiting for me, just inside the subway entrance, and was careful to avoid others hearing his question. He wasn't embarrassed - more like intimidating.


I describe mostly my 'threatening' encounters in this blog. Yet, the fact is, I've had many friendly-seeming interactions with people, who were either moles to begin with, or somehow became co-opted. By closely studying activist communities - and basically everyone - I believe the government has greatly improved their ability to persuade, or cast doubts. Call me cynical - or just deeply betrayed.


**Note: I attended this talk to draw attention to my own surveillance. I do not have aspirations of being a journalist, nor do I think my writing is 'fair or balanced.' That's why this is called a weblog. I won't even get into how rare 'objective reporting' really is. While it's a good and worthwhile goal, total objectivity is as uncommon as pure celibacy is among spiritual aspirants.