April 04, 2008 Dear „folks“ at PLUS - Sibiu Standard


Actually there are only a few straws every day, which I cannot resist anymore, for I am still able to judge myself, contrary to many others who are obviously not anymore. But these straws break the camel’s back: Just an example: Yesterday at PLUS, a story I usually laugh about. – I get a box with 77 chocolate bunnies, which are properly packed in a form, all of them. Comes a “minion” and shouts at me that I have to leave the box there. I shout back at him and ask him who he is and whether he has lost his marbles. He disappears, as usually afraid of me, for he is not used to a customer who defends himself, because in communism nobody answers back. A PLUS overall with the company emblem should actually be authoritative, shouldn’t it? Then at the cashier’s – I have bought goods for about 500 Euros for our children and put them on the belt – the cashier shouts at me “you have to leave the box here”. I lose my countenance, tip the box over the other goods and tell them “Happy stacking and Happy Easter, I am not going to buy anything”. Would you please imagine something like that happened to you in Germany at PLUS. You buy a whole container’s content and you are not allowed to take the container with you. The general manager arrives on the scene – stunned – and recognizes me, as they always and everywhere recognize me. They call me “Bosco“. He says, Bosco may take the box with him. I tell him, you pack all that back in, otherwise I will leave. The people around me are murmuring. Nobody is laughing, they are all stony. “Bosco is here, look what he is doing.” As usually they are not on my side, because they are afraid and because they have to cower. But they talk about me even outside. The cashier half-way apologizes with the remark that she just had observed the rules, “why are you angry with me?” I try to explain to her how stupid these rules are (whereas I very well know, why it works like this in RO). Yes, she says, you are not afraid, we know that, but we …? I try to give in and say, “You are allowed to be obedient only if it makes sense and if you do not offend the customers’ feelings. If it does not make any sense you have to point it out to your boss. Because all these people – and meanwhile there is a long line in front of the cashiers (who all have stopped their work) – I say blatantly, nervously, cholerically, all these people holding their money in their hands, pay y o u r salary, too. The people look at me terrified, almost pleadingly, to please not cause a scandal, while a security officer (in uniform of course) has loweringly, but mutely planted himself beside me. What do you want here, I ask him. Are you going to confiscate the box? The cashier shivers: “The general manager was here already. Bosco is allowed to take the box with him, but nobody else”, she imploringly points out. After all there is a container with 12 boxes of mashed potatoes approaching the cashier. I am quivering, but keep quiet. Shivering she takes the container, demonstratively gets out all the 12 boxes, examines all of them top down, front and behind, looks at every box, whether it is still sealed or whether I even have hidden something more worthy in them, also inspects all sides of the container, fingers it and I once again tell her “Pack it up! or are we going to start all over again?” I better had left, but PLUS is the discounter with the most reasonable prices in our region here and contrary to the vegetable sellers you may buy whole containers, I thought being used to it in Germany. I leave. My children tell me what people speak of me. Either all this is made for TV or I am off my rocker. These are things, which happen every day, not to mention what even happens in our house. “My” children are also victims of this still existing damned communism respectively its ideology and of permanent, not understable actions and remarks resulting from it. Life here actually is like hell. For people who still have not got over their distrust, which even is cultivated by German employers now, remain in communism. Maybe I am going to write an article about it in order to compensate myself. If I can get it off my chest by writing and read it once again on Fridays, I feel a bit better. How do you think of it? But then there are the threats, mental and physical ones. One of these days: “We have made a hole for you on the grave yard.” I seem to be more eerie to the people than all the henchmen and depraved communists, who oppress them, still oppress them. I cannot describe all the things which have happened to me while collecting signatures for my candidateship for mayor, together with my people. Well, that is not a problem for me, as I felt that heaven had expected my efforts and people had urged me to do it, just because of my courage. When I then had to learn that contrary to EU law foreigners are not yet allowed to contest, I was at my ease, for I had been wrong. It is a good thing, I told our LORD, it is a good thing that we do not always get you right. This is my bed-time story for you. I have to be out of here, otherwise there will be trouble. Maybe I could take my mind off things by spending some days in the central warehouse of PLUS in Mülheim. Being overanxious I slapped one of the children in the face yesterday, what had happened 5 or 6 years ago the last time. I think it hurt me more than the child and I apologized. I am just looking at a brochure of the Trans-Siberian Railway. I begin to dream. But it does not start before May and I do not have the money for it anyway. By then I try to keep the straws just beneath the limit, that would break the camel’s back. Good night PD. You know what? While reading this once again, I decide to send this to our “Depesche” addressees unchanged. No, do not object, it is already done. Let us see what is going to happen. And I think that the PLUS people will laugh my comments away. Yours, Father Don Demidoff ICCC