False Alarm

This is a late post from my trip to L.A. last week.

I don’t know about you, but when I think of a false alarm, I envision a negative pregnancy test.

PHEW! ::wipes brow::

I had my tubes cut, burned, damn near ghost busted 2 years ago, yet I still worry about false alarms. Or rather, real, live, blaring baby alarms. I imagine with a middle name of Maria, Jesus could potentially send me another baby.

But today wasn’t about THAT kind of false alarm.

I had just gotten off the phone with my dad, explaining to him how turn on the shower in his hotel room.

Seems simple enough, but this shower handle just sort of sticks out. It looks like you have to pull on it, when in reality you have to twist it. But it gets stuck, sooo by the time you figure that out, you’ve twisted it so hard the wrong way that it seems like it won’t budge at all, and you start to think it might just pop off in your hand.

I know that was an awkward explanation but there was really no way around the lingo. So if anyone reads this in 10 years, and I’m running for President or some other form of office, I hope they won’t be offended.

So any who.

“A la izquierda papi. Como el reloj, pero alrevez.”
I’m gesticulating in the air as if through the phone this will make him understand. 

“Esta mierda no abre.” 

“Quieres que vaya?” I smack myself on the forehead.

“No, ya, ya.”

I wasn’t sure if he had really opened it, or just gave up. But I went on about getting dressed. My dad, Jose (one of our managers), and I were all on different floors.

Not a minute had passed and the alarm went off. Not my phone which I usually inadvertently set to snooze.

The FIRE ALARM! 

“May I have your attention please. A fire alarm sensor has been activated in the building. Please proceed to the nearest stairwell and exit the building.”

Wahhhhhh. Wahhhhhh.

And the message went on and on. 

Wahhhhhh. Wahhhhhh.

Oh my gosh! A fire! This is just crazy. Dad must still be in the shower.

I looked at myself in the mirror. My morning face and my there’s possibly a fire face, oddly similar.

Alas, no time to remedy! 

“May I have your attention please.”

YES! you have my freakin’ attention!

Thankfully, I was already dressed so I put on my sneakers, grabbed my wallet and key, and left the room. 

Wahhhhhh. Wahhhhhh.

Lady in the hallway had her purse and luggage which she dragged down the stairs. 

Well, she’s clueless!

We were on the ninth floor!

I heard the sirens of the firetrucks.

Oh, my God. Is this for real?!?!

Is there gonna be smoke soon? Is anybody even staying in this hotel? Why aren’t more people running around!

When I got to the 4th floor, there was no alarm blaring.

Nobody in the hallways, except a lady in business attire, suitcase in hand, cellphone attached to her ear, attacking the elevator button. 

Another clueless individual. 

Come on ladies! Get it together! 

I put an ear to my dad’s door, but I couldn’t hear anything but the Wahhhhhh. Wahhhhhh. from the floor above us.

Did he go down without me? 

I called his cell.

“Dime Mima?”

“Donde estas?”

“Aqui en el cuarto. Y tu?”

“La alarma de fuego esta sonando. No la oistes? Estoy en tu puerta.”

“No. Me estaba bañando hasta ahora mismo que me llamastes.”

“Si, esta sonando. Bueno en mi cuarto y los otros pisos si.”

He let me in the room, and went on about his normal business of getting ready, a little too nonchalant for my liking.

So I decided to call downstairs, and double check if the building was about to go down in flames.

“Oh, it’s jut a false alarm. Great. Thanks.” If there were a sarcasm alarm I would have set it off.

“Bueno, parece que fue una falsa alarma.”

“Ok Mima. Nos vemos abajo en media hora.” He said with the same casual tone as before, as I slouched out of the room.

A fire? Big deal, right? -_-

A lady in the elevator, was heading up with a bottle of wine.

That seems like a great idea right now! I thought as I hit 9.

OMG! I forgot about Jose!

Trump, Jock Or Joke?

Trump for President? I wish it were a Joke.

To all these people defending Trump’s locker room talk. 

Wives. Mother’s of boys, Sisters with brothers.

I don’t understand, nor believe you would EVER accept this kind of talk from your son, brother or husband, or PRESIDENT—out in the open air or behind closed doors with buddies.

It’s one thing to talk lewdly, to brag, make up or exaggerate sexual exploits; it is another thing entirely to boast about the forced, inappropriate and unsolicited touching of women. 

Unfortunately, I myself had been in some uncomfortable situations with an older man. 

——

He asked me to massage him, but to sit on his back. I refused.

I was 11 maybe. 

——
He pressed his face against mine and asked me for a kiss.

I felt him squeeze my thigh much higher than he should have as he hovered above me.
I ran away to my room and locked the door. He persisted to knock.

I was 13.

——
He offered to take me to a motel and teach me things. No one would have to know. When I walked away from him he grabbed my wrist tight and said “don’t go, I won’t hurt you.”
I managed to pull away from him, and drove away sobbing. 

I was 17.

——
I NEVER touched him, and he NEVER touched me. I don’t know how I escaped anything further than just the horribly awkward & traumatic encounters. I was smart and lucky. God was with me.

But I can still feel the ache in the pit of my stomach when I think about it or talk about it.

Some will say,”well, you didn’t get raped or anything.”

Yes, you are right. I didn’t. 

But I wouldn’t wish the ordeal on anyone, especially being that I have 2 daughters.
I would lose it if I heard they had gone through something like that. 

I waited more than 5 years to say anything about what was going on. 

Why?

Was I dumb?

Was I making it up?

Was I trying to get something out of it?

NO. 

I finally said something because I couldn’t bare the thought of somebody else getting hurt. 

I had been scared. I thought it was all in my head. I thought no one would believe me. 

He was no celebrity, but everybody liked him. 

By no means was this person rich, or famous, or important, or running for president, for that matter.

That person was a pig.

Donald Trump is a pig. 

Thankfully, I have never seen him again. 

Please, people. THIS is the man you want running for President? 

NO ONE would ever even consider a man with any type of sexual allegations for the presidency. He would immediately have had to drop out. 

Some of you will be quick to say, well that guy was a pedophile, but it was much more than that. It was the conquest; it was about getting what he wanted. And we all know Trump gets what he wants. 

“And when you’re a star they let you do it. You can do anything. Grab them by the pussy.”