Bag Lady

So, I was in Woolworths, or Safeway, or whatever...in Portland tonight...& I was accosted by this woman and asked to present my bag for searching. 

I was taken aback...this hasn't happened to me in this town...ever...

or anywhere else, for a while, so I said, "what is the reason?"

& she said "Store policy!  I have a right to search your bag!"

So...I took her word for it...it's been a while since I checked the legislation...& I gave her the bag. 

I think the deal is...you go into a shop...they can pretty much do what they like.  That's a condition of entrance.  It's quite legal for her to do this...but it's also legal for me to say how it made me feel.

Now...I was co-operative.  I pick my fights carefully these days, and this was not the time for righteous indignation.  I wouldn't say I'm an innocent man, exactly...but I can say I was innocent of theft.  I haven't stolen something since I was...a kid, I think.  I wouldn't even do it in the Police Force...even when everyone around me was doing it.  It's no big deal to me...if cops need goods and chattels that badly...they are gonna' do it anyway...& those motherfuckers have guns and a blurred sense of right and wrong. 

You back away from these brutes; I know the deal. 

I'm not judging...I'm hardly the picture of all things good and righteous.  To me?  It's a matter of taste. 

Theft is just not my thing. 

I love to write...to read...to watch movies...& fiddle about on the computer.  I ride time to time.  Occasionally I fly. 

I don't get myself into hot enough water to try anything as desperate as breaking the law. 

So...having my bag searched...was a bit of a foreign notion. 


Actually...it was a bit more than that.  As I was sitting there, while this strange woman went through my private work, papers, documents, mostly stuff to do with writing and film making...

a bit of legal stuff...


You know what?  I felt a bit...like I was being raped again.

I got that same feeling...

That EXACT same feeling...I had when the priests took me down to the dungeon & did their thing.   

You know that hot feeling?  In your chest, your neck...down your back...like a tingling pain?

And the humiliation? 

At someone going through your personal stuff?

No idea what the hell will happen next?

It was like...being transported in time instantly. 

Back there...to that dungeon.


Strange, that.  I was back there...in my mind...back in the dungeon...being made to pull my pants down and bend over the big tea chest.  It's weird how some things stay with you...


& how easily they can be retrieved. 


If this has happened to you...you have my sympathy. 

When I was a cop...I searched crooks bags without a second thought.  Now...I know how it feels. 

You live long enough...you learn all sorts of things, don't you? 


And you'll be delighted to know...

I hadn't stolen anything. 

But this woman certainly got something from me.

It's cool...some people dig that fascist trip; & if you can get away with it lawfully...why not? 


Game set and match.