Here in my present winter paradisiacal locale, less happy occurrences have gotten in the way of my enjoyment of this most idyllic setting. The downplaying of my own academic accomplishments while simultaneously and highly publicly celebrating those of my sibling by my parents did little to improve my situation or my morale, but their actions were not the genuine cause of my discomfiture.
Less than two years ago I was the
victim (God, how I hate that word, and I'm searching for a better term that sums up my situation with equal brevity) in a school restroom assault. Orders of protection were issued, and which have been followed, at least to the best of my knowledge, largely without incident. This week, the chief perpetrator of my assault appeared at the winter resort where the entourage of which I'm a part is skiing and/or snowboarding. We're lodging off the premises, which arguably de-complicates the matter ever so slightly, but there's plenty of complication to go around even without our living accommodations contributing to the general state of pandemonium.
This is obviously not The actual Thug, but it comes as close to an accurate representation as I can use here without fear of legal consequences.
I'll try as much as I can to provide a synopsis of the happenings leading up to the present hubbub without retracing steps all the way back to back to the flood that occurred in the days of Noah. Anyway, a question concerning authorship of a high school composition culminated in two girls ripping part of my clothing off and standing strategically on parts of my body, some of which had been injured very seriously and fairly recently at that point, in order to facilitate a sexual attack upon me in a school restroom by the hulking male would-be author of the composition. (Forgive me, as it's getting old just from my perspective as a teller of the story. It cannot possibly be growing any more exciting to the readers with each retelling.) In an ever-so-slight attempt to cut to the chase and minimize the boredom, we'll stipulate that many court actions took place, one of which was an order of protection barring any of the perps (including an additional participant who helped to propel a large chunk of cement through my bedroom window the night of the attack) from coming within 200 yards of me.
One condition of the order of protection was that since none of the perpetrators had a that point in their lives pressing business that would require them to spend time in the county of my university of attendance (which also became the residence of my family, a my parents relocated following my high school graduation), the subjects of the protective orders were allowed to travel though the county of my residence on US 101 and to exit the freeway in order to refuel vehicles or to eat a meal, but that they otherwise were not allowed to loiter in my county of residence and, specifically, were not allowed on the campus of my university of attendance. Any or all of these decrees could be amended for specific mitigating circumstances though the proper channels, but deviation whatsoever from the dictates of the order of protection must be addressed in court prior to the occurrence at the risk of facing sanctions for failure to adhere to the dictates of the court document.
If you were having trouble sleeping, you're probably ready for a long winter's nap by now, as am I. You are free to indulge in your whims and sleep. I, however should explain what I started out trying to explain.
Through something that was in all likelihood pure coincidence, the most aggressive of the perpetrators in my attack -- the one who had designs of using his male organ as a weapon against me but was unable to maintain sufficient rigidity to back up his intent -- ended up at the same winter vacation resort as did I. As I understand the terms of my agreement, had I, through the court system, informed anyone subject to my order of my protection of my plans in a timely manner (typically four months or more prior to the onset of the vacation) of the place and tie of my vacation, and had he not produced documentation that he had reservations at that same place of business during the same time, he would have been required either to stay away from the resort or to, at the very least, have maintained the 200-yard distance of separation from me. Because, however, I don't choose to live my entire life inside a courthouse, I left well enough alone, as I have for previous vacations without incident.
Reasons for leaving things alone and not over-litigation are numerous. Judges may become tired of those who insist upon having every detail of their lives dictated by court decree. While such shouldn't affect a jurist's judgment, it can create a subtle prejudicial effect in the mind of a judge, who may begin to think, "Can't this person handle ANYTHING on his or her own?" Additionally, announcing one's vacation plans in order to keep an adversary from traveling there can, in addition to annoying a judge, tell the adversary precisely where the protected person is going to be. Chances are the subject of the protective order isn't going to be killed or seriously harmed as a result, but little annoyances such as, say, slit tires frequently happen as a result. It's very difficult to prove the original perp did it under such circumstances. So, generally speaking, it's often best to leave well enough along and hope the original offender has other plans.
I have no clue as to whether or not The Thug knows I winter at Sundance almost every year. Had we simply appeared at the same place, the classy thing would have been to ignore each other. When I first saw The Thug, I honestly thought it was his younger brother, who bears a strong resemblance to him. Soon enough it became obvious that it was the Real McCoy. At this point, peace could still have been achieved. We could have gone our separate ways, and he could have chosen not to enter a building if I were already inside.
Peace, however was the furthest thing from The Thug's mind. What started out as simple leers, which are subjective and thus nearly impossible to litigate, made way to following me to specific ski runs and making [minimally] suggestive comments. When The Thug reached out in apparent attempt to pinch my bottom (I'm faster than he is, so his grasp gained him nothing but cool Alpine air), it became apparent that either he couldn't have given a hoot about the restraining order or thought it was moot across state lines.
I was standing next to Cousin Will's wife and her daughter outside the main lodge when The Thug approached. For reasons not entirely clear to me, he though either that Cousin Will's wife and I had no connection, or that she was deaf or severely hard of hearing. He made a comment that my breasts (he used another word) weren't exactly of mammoth proportions, they did seem to be slightly large than the last time he's gotten a good look and grope. Inone motion, Cousin Will's wife put one arm around her eleven-year-old daughter , another arm around me, and belted out in her best "to-the-very-back- row-of-the-theatre" Broadway diva voice, "
SEXUAL DEVIATE ON THE PREMISES!
HEEELLLLLP !!!!"
We were immediately surrounded by resort security, employees, executives, and curious gawkers.
All that was known about initially was his comment on my breasts and how they were bigger than when he last groped them, which would, apparently, have been plenty to have him tossed. His explanation that a restraining order in California had no standing in Utah was soon debunked. He was cuffed by real law enforcement personnel once just a few more incidents were recounted. My brother, who arrived eventually, got my wallet from our shared locker and produced the restraining order (probably needed from him to be carted away in a squad car, but not for him to be thrown out of the resort). He did the perp walk out in cuffs, vowing to seek revenge against me (all recorded; it's a bunch of empty threats and I don't plan to lose any sleep over anything he said). His peeps, some of whom made disparaging remarks to me the previous day and today, pretty much dissociated themselves from him. they considered themselves lucky to have gotten even a portion of money back from their three-day pass, and they all apologized for any part they played in the incident. (Note: they did not apologize to me personally, and I have not forgotten that, should anything ever come of this.)
His peeps left the area without bailing him out. I'm sure his daddy got an attorney to take care of that for him. He has a court appearance tomorrow on charges of violation of an order of protection lewd and lascivious behavior. My part is covered by the DA's office. My case would be stronger if I were represented, so Aunt J. called someone who will represent my interests as a favor to her.
If The Thug shows up for court, it will be transferred to CA, where his probation will presumably be lengthened, though not likely revoked. If he skips out, which is likely, he'll need to make himself scare in Utah basically forever.
Uncle Scott and I are no longer on the outs with one another. I had not wanted to snowboard today because I wanted to avoid the situation. He insisted I had to go to the resort. He now admits he was wrong not to have listened to my explanation. I forgive him. Life is short.
We have one more day of frivolity, of which I intend to make the most. Sometimes incidents such as this one have a way of allowing my parents to seen the error of their ways in unrelated areas, such as in their excessive rewarding of my brother for his lackluster academic performance in comparison to mine. If such is the case in this instance, perfectissimo! If not, I'll take my brother up on his offer to go halfsies on the goodies they've offered him by way of rewards. (He's well on his way to becoming a decent human being,by the way.) Either way, life is good.
Thanks, everyone [except for one of you, anonymous, and you know who you are] for your continued support and words of wisdom. Let the good times continue until the drudgery of school must inevitably resume.
