Sat night October 4th, 2003, at the Aurora Sable and Mississippi ARC Thrift store I heard: It's 8:45 the store will be closing in 15 minutes" I thought I had time to check out the t-shirts. I like to look for Avalanche shirts for my daughter. I was almost through the rack when I heard "It's 9:00 the store is closed" Odd, I thought, normally a store will give you a five minute lead, I hustled up to the checkout.

I was the last person in line. Now it was my turn. I put a couple of things on the counter. I couldn't help but notice that there were all these ARC employees sitting around at the other cash registers, "helpers" all African Americans females, watching me, as I was checking out. There were at least 4 of them. It was 9:00. Wasn't there things for them to do?  I was looking over a black jacket in the better light of the checkout lane (for rips or flaws) and one of the voices rang out "You're taking too long". It wasn't but a second or two after that but from seemed out of no where an Aurora cop took the shopping cart I had my hand on, turned it around and shoved it way the other direction back into the main isles of the store, and it went flying. Then he grabbed my left arm above the elbow and told me I was leaving the store. I was looking at my basket now way down the isle said something like 'but I'd like to buy those things', or 'what about those clothes', or something like that, then he grabbed my other arm, he had a really tight grip on my left arm, (I weigh about 105 pounds and have no weight in my arms at all) and started shoving me backwards, and I said "you're hurting my arm" and the next thing I know I'm out the door with one of "helpers" locking the door behind me. My arm was throbbing, and all I could think was, what happened?

Of course I thought of the staff of "helpers" all standing around at the cash registers and the ways that they had made me cry in the past, especially Alice and Geneva, but I didn't think that, because they had made me cry before, that they hated me enough to be this vengeful, or to goad the cop into hurting me. I had told them that I was bipolar, at least I told Alice and Geneva. Being bipolar is a mental handicap, it's horrible, but I thought ARC was an organization that helped the handicapped????? 

(Alice had made me cry in the past because she refused to take my $15.00 in returns at 10 minutes to 9 one night. It was the last day for the return and Alice said it was too late, she was about to go home, and just left me there at the last register while the clock ticked away to 9:00, so I just started to cry. It's part of my disease, I just cry when people are mean to me. A few minutes later she came back and started yelling at me, told me to stop my balling.)

So outside of the door, as my arm was throbbing and I was starting to cry, I was thinking that this was real abuse and so my natural instinct was to call 911. WHAT WAS I THINKING. Call 911 to complain TO THE COPS about a COP TREATING ME BADLY, HURTING MY ARM AND JUST WANTING TO KNOW WHY ???????

So there I was a law abiding citizen waiting on the cement in total tears, with all those employees inside the ARC store looking at me, and laughing and one even blew me a kiss. 

When the other cops showed up, the first cop's story was that I smelled of alcohol and when I was asked to leave I refused two times saying "NO" so they were forced to throw me out. (I had been out to dinner with friends and had a margarita at 6pm but this was now after 9pm).

Through my hysterical crying I was trying to tell them that this story was not the way it was. RIGHT! WHAT'S THE USE. THEY ARE COPS!! They are one big fraternity of cover-your-ass liars.

I've been thinking about this. What would it have sounded like had the first cop told the others the truth. "Well you see, guys, it was like this. The ARC girls told me to have a little fun with her, so I took her by surprise, shoved her cart out into the isle, grabbed her arm, and told her she was leaving, then the bitch started whining about wanting to buy the stuff in the basket, so I grabbed her other arm, and squeezed her real good until it hurt, then shoved her ass out the door."

The first cop's name, the one who hurt me, is Officer Michael "Mick" Wortham (Operations Division, Patrol, Aurora, Colorado. His watch commander's number is 303-739-6270.), there "to serve and protect." I think not!! He was there to "entertain and amuse" the ARC employees at my expense, I suppose. Cop#2 gave me "Mick's" card. Are you ready .... I was supposed to call and complain to his commander. There's a good stiff belly laugh.

So off they went and I was a pile of flesh on the cement. I'm just a mom, and a person with bipolar syndrome (manic depression) which means that when shit happens, and it's unfair, and I it's too much for me, it goes straight to my heart, and I cry and have a really hard time coming up for air for a while. Anyway I'm not used to things being this unjust. At least not from your typical retail store. Maybe if I was an inmate at the county jail I would have been a little more prepared. 

I'm not used to cops being the bad guys. I watch TV. On TV, Cops are always good guys. On TV, when Cops are the bad guys, other cops hate them. TV is not reality. Now I see that Cops lie to make their stories look good. I'll never watch another cop show. 

The cruel pack of vermin working at the Aurora ARC store at Sable and Mississippi need to learn a lot about customer service. Their attitude spreads like germ warfare. I have seen new employees come to the store, jump on the band wagon of cruelty. I'm the customer and I have spent thousands of dollars in the 2 years I've been shopping at the various ARC stores. I also donate back to the stores. I am treated extremely well at all of the other stores. The Sable and Mississippi store is very different. Those women seemed to get enjoyment at treating me like some kind of criminal. They loved it that I was sitting in a heap on the cement crying my eyes out. They were laughing. I had been checking a black jacket to see if it had any flaws. -front-back- Then I heard "You're taking too long" Why didn't they announce: "The store will close in 5 minutes."? Guess they really wanted to hustle home, drink beer and sit their fat butts in front of the TV. Funny they didn't want to hustle home when the alternative was to watch me cry on the cement. That was better entertainment. And thanks for blowing me that kiss.  

When this happened to me the cop was acting as a Rent-a-Cop. He was off duty. He was making a little side money. He was being paid by ARC. 

I went back a couple of days later and took these pictures of the women who urged on the cop and who then enjoy the show. When they saw my camera you would have thought I had a gun. What do they have to hide or be ashamed of??? The store's leader is in the top picture calling 9-1-1. Picture #3 is the leader sneaking a quick peak of her lovely face in the mirror, positioned right next to the cash registers, as she was calling 9-1-1. This bottom picture is a good representation of her happy customer service face, or maybe her feelings toward me, or maybe life, or maybe all of the above.

Isn't it a good idea to have 2 cop cars come screaming up with lights flashing and create a big deal about a 5' 2" woman weighing 105 pounds carrying a camera. It was probably a great use of city money, and her time too.

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