Normally I wouldn't bother with nonsense like this, but we are talking about the prime minister, who normally supposed to have some dignity (I haven't mentioned that word once in the commentary)
What happened to dignity of office?
This is an individual who conspires to destroy the reputation of his enemies and hobnobs with the worst specimens of humanity, like Cameron Slater, so deserves everything he gets.
When will there be something that is so bad that he has, not to apologise, but to immediately resign.
What happened to dignity of office?
This is an individual who conspires to destroy the reputation of his enemies and hobnobs with the worst specimens of humanity, like Cameron Slater, so deserves everything he gets.
When will there be something that is so bad that he has, not to apologise, but to immediately resign.
The
Prime Minister and the Waitress
PM made a laughing stock of
PM made a laughing stock of
22
April, 2015
This
is a guest blog from an anonymous waitress about the way John Key
kept touching her when he repeatedly visited her place of work. The
waitress contacted us with her story, The Daily Blog did not seek her
out or pressure her in anyway to write this blog. We are
protecting her identity so she is not punished by her
employer or social media victim blaming.
The
question to ask after reading her words is if this bullying behaviour
is acceptable from the Prime Minister of NZ.
**********
His
actions commenced during election time last year, I can recall
discussing it with regular customers at this time, as he was often a
topic of their conversation. He was frequenting the cafe far more
than ever before. It was election time and he was out showing his
face, being seen.
In
the beginning, the first time he pulled on my hair, I remember
thinking to myself he’s probably just trying to be playful and
jolly, seeing as the general consensus of most who meet him is “he’s
such a nice guy”. He’s trying to play into that to earn votes, I
thought to myself. I didn’t respond positively to his ‘gesture’,
in fact I didn’t address his behaviour at all, besides an
unimpressed expression. Pulling someones hair is hardly an acceptable
form of greeting.
The
next time he came up behind me and pulled my hair I was annoyed.
Great, I thought, this wasn’t just a one off. Despite my obvious
annoyance I didn’t comment on his behaviour. It then happened yet
again when he next visited the cafe and again I didn’t respond
verbally, but everything about my body language screamed I DON’T
LIKE THAT.
No
one else had ever thought it was ok to walk into the cafe and pull
the waitresses hair, so why did the Prime Minister think it was ok?
My reasoning was simple, I could tell him that I didn’t like it –
but I shouldn’t HAVE to. He was like the school yard bully tugging
on the little girls’ hair trying to get a reaction, experiencing
that feeling of power over her. I would think to myself, even a five
year old could tell you that if you pull on a girls’ hair she will
not like it, I shouldn’t have to tell THE PRIME MINISTER that I
don’t like it when he pulls my hair – talk about stating the
obvious!
I
began to avoid interacting with him where possible, if he entered
when another staff member was also present I would promptly make
myself busy somewhere else, I would ask someone to take the beverages
or food to his table so I didn’t have to. I kept my distance when I
could. It seemed as though the more I disliked it and made myself
absent the more fun it became for him, the more he enjoyed the
challenge of approaching from behind me, unsuspected.
So
the game continued. He would come up behind me when I was at the
ordering terminal, tug on my hair and then pretend that his wife,
Bronagh, had done it (much to her embarrassment), and she would tell
him to stop it. As he rounded the corner behind me he commented
“that’s a very tantalising ponytail”.
On
Saturday, 28th February (which I specifically recall as there was to
be a protest outside his home the following day) he approached me
from behind, security personnel by his side, as I stood with my back
to him filling water glasses, and he pulled my hair before once again
pointing the blame at Bronagh. I couldn’t believe it, he was still
persisting and by now he had definitely got the message that I was
not enjoying it – that seemed to be why he was enjoying it so damn
much. It had really crossed the line by this point and I didn’t
need to tell him to stop because now Bronagh herself was already
telling him to stop what he was doing, and not for the first time I
might add. I exclaimed “Really?!!”, to my manager beside me, and
shot him a look of utter disbelief and frustration.
What
more could I do? How humiliating would it be to have to stand before
the Prime Minister, his wife and security personnel and a handful of
customers and say John, Mr Prime Minister, Sir, could you please stop
tugging on my hair, I don’t like it, please stop, please… I felt
I shouldn’t HAVE to do that. I certainly couldn’t reciprocate his
actions, maybe see if he liked to have his hair pulled. Who would
dare do that to a man with his own personal security? I told his
security that I was sick of having my hair pulled and one day I’ll
snap and i’ll punch him in the face. I hoped that maybe they’d
tell him that enough’s enough and it’s time to draw it to an end.
I posted on the National Party and the John Key Facebook pages a
message along the lines of “Stop pulling my hair – I don’t like
it!”. Maybe between social media and his security buddies and my
body language and his wife’s advice he might finally get the
message?
The
next time I saw him I managed to successfully avoid facing him
throughout his visit, what a huge relief! Friday, 13th March,
however, I wasn’t so lucky. I was stood at the main entrance to
meet and greet customers, I saw his security personnel enter first
and I quickly turned myself to place my back against the wall, then
John entered. Despite my best efforts to avoid the situation, without
literally running away, he just couldn’t help himself and still
attempted, from directly in front of me, to reach around behind me in
search of my hair, as he walked by. That was too much, even for me. I
had remained professional for absolutely as long as I could and this
time I put my hand out in front of me, a barrier between John and
myself, and I said “No! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO!” as I wagged my
finger at him and he reluctantly backed away. During this visit he
said to my manager “she really doesn’t like me pulling her
ponytail?” and she responded “well, …no!”. He then asked her
my name and later, as he passed by me upon leaving, he spoke my name,
just that one word, as if a duel like acknowledgement, a standoff. I
thought to myself, ok, i’ve done it, I’ve made it blatantly
clear, he knows, and he’s making a real scene now, repeatedly, in a
busy cafe, that must be the end of it, surely.
Thursday,
26 March, and once again he was at the cafe. I continued to keep my
distance, dreading any unpleasantries. Unfortunately, I found myself
at the door when it came time for him to leave, which meant, besides
passing him, I had nowhere to go. As he approached me he thought it
would be fitting to raise his hands high and make scary, suspense
sound effects, like the music from the movie Jaws that we all know so
well, and still gestured as if to reach behind me. As he towered
overhead I slunk down, cringing, whilst Bronagh told him to “leave
the poor girl alone”. I looked him in the eye and asked “is it
self defence, with your security here, if I have to physically stop
you from touching me?” and he countered, with a smile, “defence
against what?”. He then changed the topic to the settling of his
account and bid me politely farewell, but, as he motioned to leave
and I turned towards the computer, he couldn’t resist that
satisfying tug and once again he pulled my hair.
As
he made his way out the door I said after him “Please STOP or I
will actually hit you soon!”. He’d made it clear that he just
didn’t care. I had made a scene, I had told his security, his wife
had told him, I was getting pretty close to physically stopping him
given half the chance, and he still didn’t care. Everybody knew
that I didn’t like it, I really didn’t like it. I felt powerless
and tormented and I stepped out the back and I cried frustrated
tears.
A
short while later he reappeared holding not one, but two bottles of
JK 2012 PM’s Pinot Noir. He scurried over to me in the very centre
of the cafe and hurriedly handed me the bottles, with big smiles,
really big smiles, saying “this is for you, sorry, I didn’t
realise.” Before I could say a word he’d already hightailed it
out of there, the grinning assassin appearing as if he was the nice
guy, whilst no doubt following someone else’s advice to contain the
situation before it really got out of hand, and I pretty much felt
like in my hands was a bribe. “I didn’t realise”. Really?! That
was almost more offensive than the harassment itself.
Saturday,
28th March, came and his security personnel were in for their morning
coffee. Upon leaving one of them asked me “how was the wine?”,
and I told him one of the things I wasn’t given the chance to tell
John: “I don’t drink red wine.” What I didn’t tell him was
that I only took the wine so I could photograph it as some form of
evidence that all of this really did happen. I don’t even know if
that was necessary in retrospect, word spreads, and even the local
firefighters have asked me about what one of their guys saw. Other
customers will sneak up behind me and say “Boo! Don’t worry, it’s
not John Key!” or give my hair a gentle tug to see me panic and
then say “I’m John Key”.
John
seemed to think that his job demanded less professionalism than that
of a waitress, yet he’s the one that’s running our entire
country. Unfortunately, when our poor country is left cringing,
tormented, cowering in the corner, it can’t be fixed with a bottle
of wine, and neither was this. I’m telling this story because I’m
the only one who can and it seems he needs reminding that he’s not
a god, he’s just a man.
The
two bottles of personalised wine Key gave the waitress.
Will
#ponytailgate pull key down?
OPINION: It's already been called #ponytailgate on Twitter but it won't bring John Key down - at least not directly.
OPINION: It's already been called #ponytailgate on Twitter but it won't bring John Key down - at least not directly.
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