Day 10 of posting everyday.
Yesterday, I wrote and uploaded a blog post titled "Fuck The Washington" following my removal from the venue on a false accusation of rape. I took the blog post down almost immediately on the advice of a friend.
Later yesterday evening, the general manager of The Washington got in touch. He apologised profusely for what happened and explained the series of mistakes that lead to me being falsely accused and kicked out.
Since this conversation with the manager, my attitudes have changed slightly as to what happened. My anger is directed less towards The Washington and more at a few of the individuals working there. However, The Washington still has to take responsibility for their staff, and I am slightly disappointed that they are continuing to employ the one member of bar staff who initially accused me. The fact this person still works there is why myself and my friends - all previous regulars at The Washington - will not be going back.
Below, I am going to post what I uploaded yesterday on Friday's events. Not only did I spend quite a bit of time on it - time wasted if it's deleted - but I also think it does a pretty good job of capturing the confusion, anxiety and anger of being falsely accused of something so heinous.
I guess I want to stress the importance of procedure in events like this. And I also want to say a big fuck you to the cunt at The Washington whose fault the whole ordeal was.
Here is yesterday's unedited blog.
---------------------------------------
Day 9: Fuck The Washington
Day 9 of posting everyday.
I know this blog is usually dumb, but I need to write about something serious and boring. The events of last night are the only thing going on in my head, so writing about anything else is going to be impossible. I also think writing will help me organise my thoughts.
Anyone that knows Sheffield knows The Washington. The Washington is (or was) a fantastic pub and music venue. Its USP is being open till 3:00am throughout the week, which means you always end up there when you want the night to keep going.
Last night, myself and two friends - all three of us regulars (like embarrassingly regular regulars) - turned up at around 1:30am. It was busy, so we had to queue for 20/30 minutes. We got chatting to one of the door people that we are friendly with before getting in and ordering a round of drinks.
It was while at the bar that a new member of staff (we had all seen him before at the pub but only as a customer), started signalling to me that I needed to leave.
I knew he was mistaken, so I ignored him. Looking back, completely ignoring him was a bit out of character. I think, because he was new, I didn't really have any respect for him, and therefore had the confidence to walk away.
We went outside and I had one sip of my drink before one of the bouncers came up to me - not the bouncer we are friendly with - and asked me to leave. At this point we had been in The Washington for maybe two minutes and had not interacted with anybody. My friends and I were bemused, but not wanting to cause I fuss, I passed my friends my full glass and followed the bouncer outside.
I asked him what I had done wrong and he said he didn't know specifics, but apparently the bar staff, or one particular member of bar staff, were not comfortable with me being in the pub.
I was stunned to silence, and desperately started scanning my brain trying to think of what I'd done wrong. I explained to the bouncer that I was a regular and had only been in the pub for a maximum of two minutes. He explained he didn't know specifics but was just doing his job. I appreciated that he was just following orders (because that has never been a problem, has it?) and I shook his hand. All I could think to ask was whether or not I was barred. I was so confused.
Whilst I was outside trying to come to terms with what was going on, inside one of my friends was investigating. He knew it was the new barman who had had me kicked out and so went to ask him why.
"Your friend raped my friend Zara," the barman replied.
My friend, knowing a) that I am not a rapist and b) that I don't know anyone called Zara, told the barman he got the wrong person. This eventually lead to a picture being produced on the barman's phone of the alleged rapist. My friend said it looked so dissimilar to me that he laughed in the barman's face.
By now, the bouncer had shook my hand and sent me on my way. (I walked 100 yards down the road and sat on a wall.) When he re-entered the pub, the bouncer walked into the conversation ongoing between my friend and the barman.
My friend said it was at this point that the barman probably realised he made a mistake. He went very quiet. In the presence of the bouncer he said nothing. "Are you going to have any input then?" My friend started accosting the barman and, as a result, the bouncer kicked him out. Which is understandable.
Outside, my friend let me know for the first time that I was being accused of rape. We stuck around for our other friend and were eventually approached again by the bouncer.
At this point I should say how good the bouncer was. He was the only one who seemed to grasp the seriousness of the situation. He was also patient and listened and didn't kick my fucking head in like a lot of bouncers would have with someone they were told was a rapist. He took a picture of my ID (because I guess they know the rapist's name, right? Like maybe we start there?) and explained that I wasn't barred and should get in contact tomorrow to straighten things out. I think he also knew at this point that I was innocent, but didn't say so. We weren't allowed back in but didn't want to go near the place. Instead we headed for Picture House Social.
God Bless You Picture House Social, you always make us feel at home. Beautiful bastards. Plus, you don't, you know, ACCUSE ME OF RAPE.
So yeah, fuck The Washington basically. They handled the whole rape accusation thing terribly. And also fuck that one barman. Not least because he is willing to accuse someone of something so damning with literally zero evidence, but also because he didn't have the courage or common fucking decency to own up to his mistake. What a fucking prannock. I've been feeling like shit as is and now, because of one man's itchy-trigger-fingered inability to recognise faces, and because of an establishment's complete an utter disinterest in the welfare of its regular customers, I now have to worry whether or not half of Sheffield thinks I raped someone.
I don't know if you've ever been accused of rape but it's not exactly the best headspace to be in.
Fuck you The Washington.
Oh, and if it was in any doubt, me and my friends will not be returning. Not that you give a fuck.
Sorry for the gloom - happier blog post tomorrow.
Comments