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Location: Toronto, Ontario, Canada

Tuesday, August 23, 2005

Bad Picketer

Met a manager leaving the building, one of the front line managers who you know is inside holding the place together. A person I've always quite liked. My placard whipped up in the wind and struck her in the face before I could catch it. "Sorry!" I said. "Didn't do that on purpose." She took it well, and we chatted for a bit. Then I did something that I guess was inappropriate. I pressed her for who was doing what, in particular, who was working master control. Just sheer curiousity on my part, not anything that I would consider incriminating material should I happen to know it. She demurred, and I pressed on. "Oh come on!" I said. "Is it so and so? How 'bout so and so? Surely he's not capable." She said, no, no, I can't tell you that, I've already gotten into trouble once, and then she skittered away.

Afterward I felt badly. This was not a person I wanted to treat poorly. But what must be going on inside if someone you consider a friend reacts that way to you? The Brownshirts must be coming down on people hard in there.

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