Tale of Two Women
November 9, 2006 A young couple comes to the public meals program and trouble always comes with them. Last night there was a fist-fight; the police came and somebody called an ambulance. The ambulance wasn't necessary, but it's much more dramatic that way. The girl is spectacularly mouthy; not only would her superb command of profanity and obscenity shame a Marine Sargeant, but her weapons-grade volume is matched by the unrelenting intensity of her verbal attack. She just won't quit. I have no doubt that she got her boyfriend beat-up last night just because she wouldn't stop mouthing off for thirty seconds. Tonight I met them at the door and told them I would be happy to pack a meal for them to go but they couldn't stay for the dinner. She's a resident at our women's shelter, he at our men's - when I suggested they eat the meals that are provided for them there the girlfriend went predictably ballistic. I know the public meal program is a place for them to meet and have a meal together, and that's important in their life right now, but yikes - every single time they come I end up in the middle of a fracas.
Another man joins us, not every night, but often. He has, among other challenges, Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. He'll sit rigidly in a chair and stare straight ahead, crossing and uncrossing his legs in a specific way as he goes through some sort of ritual. After the meal was over and folks were starting to leave we observed a woman confronting him. She was absolutely badgering him, telling him over and over to get help, to see a counsellor, to let her take him to a doctor. We observed for a few minutes before intervening. He continued to stare straight ahead and, whenever she demanded, "Why won't you answer me?" He quietly and calmly replied, "I'm trying to ignore you." She just kept at him, and at him, and at him. It was all in the guise of helping him - her conversation revealed they had previously been in a relationship - but her tone and demeanor was nothing less than abusive. He seemed about as harmful as a small child on Ny-Quill; she was ready to boil the rabbit. I still don't know how we got her to leave but we did, and she went out the door bellowing, "Okay fine, don't help him, just let him sit there!" To this I rather pleasantly replied, "Okay, we'll do that", and we did. I had three different people tell me afterwrds that they knew her, and were glad we intervened.
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