Saturday, April 12, 2008

No, Matt, I won't give your baby a bath

So, a few days later, I'm walking past Matt's desk, and he stops me.

"Hey, John," he said quietly. "How would you like to come over to my place this weekend and give my baby a bath?"

I couldn't believe what I had just heard.

"What?" I said.

"I bet you'd like that, wouldn't you?" he said, laughing like a demonic spirit as I walked off.

It's amazing, isn't it? Someone can say whatever they want about you...make something up if they want to out of thin air, and it can impact your life for years.

This was the environment I worked in.

I wish I could remember every comment I encountered (often I wasn't sure if I was supposed to be into little boys or little girls), but my absolute favorite was when Matt printed out a photo a what looked like a 3- or 4-year old boy and hung it on the outside wall of his cubicle.

It was a weird picture. It was an 8 1/2 X 11 piece of paper with a picture of a little kid nude from the waist up, arms behind his head in a pose that probably would have appeared sexual if it was an adult.

I've often wondered what a mother or father of a child who had been abducted or hurt by a sicko would think of Matt's sense of humor.

Think about it for a second. The thousands of kids around the world who have been hurt and permanently scarred by predators, while Matt Havard claims he has the goods on someone, and decides he'd rather use it to oppress them than call the police.

Give that guy a GEM card for sure.

I know, shake it off. Don't hold an offense. It's all about love.

Uh, I think I'll love Matt (and the rest of this bunch) a whole lot easier when the truth is out. I haven't heard many voices defending me in all this, so God has given me a voice.

I love you, Matt.

Now back to our story...

Oh, yes. And Mary.

Mary Havard, a fellow employee in the office, is Matt's wife.

Certainly, in those personal times at home, he's shared with her the horrible things he knows about me. Right?

Mary, who had a new baby at one point (for the record, I really didn't want to bathe that baby). She would certainly be sensitive to a disgusting child predator walking around in the office.

I worked with her quite often as a result of her role as associate publications director. Certainly it was a strain on our working relationship. Certainly she was disgusted with me.

Here's an example of how disgusted she was (read from the bottom of the email trail):

===============================================

-----Original Message-----
From: Havard, Mary G.
Sent: Tuesday, May 22, 2001 9:54 AM
To: Tyler, John C.
Cc: White, Doris H.
Subject: RE: URGENT: UT System Annual Report

You're wonderful! Thanks. mgh

P.S. What was the correction, by the way? I'd like to include it in my file, just in case we use the copy again.

-----Original Message-----
From: Tyler, John C.
Sent: Tuesday, May 22, 2001 9:48 AM
To: Havard, Mary G.
Subject: RE: URGENT: UT System Annual Report

I just emailed her with the correction. Thanks. JT

-----Original Message-----
From: Havard, Mary G.
Sent: Tuesday, May 22, 2001 9:37 AM
To: Tyler, John C.
Cc: White, Doris H.
Subject: URGENT: UT System Annual Report
Importance: High

Just got a call from Julie Kniseley at UT System. She must verify afigure in our feature for the UT System Annual Report. She's got the blueline proof and it has to go back to the printer today, so time is of the essence. Sorry for the short notice, but I just now got the call. It was something they didn't notice until this morning.

===============================================

This email pretty much typifies the working relationship I had with Matt's wife.

I think I've adequately addressed this silliness. He claimed that stuff was on that laptop to either protect himself from being held accountable for violating my privacy or simply to destroy my reputation.

At some point during my time at UTMB, public affairs moved from the Sealy and Smith Professional Building to the Administration Building.

Once we got everything moved over to the new office, I went back over to the old office space to check one last time for anything I might have left over there.

The room had been completely gutted, no longer were desks and chairs and partitions breaking up the large space. In the huge open area, I walked to the very back of the room where my desk once sat.

Here's the final touch on all my memories from that time in the Sealy and Smith Building:

Someone had taken insulated phone wire, or some type of wire that had been pulled up in the move and now was littering the room. Right where my desk had sat days before, someone had made a perfect circle with thick bunches of that wire on the floor.

In the middle of that circle they had set a box of rat poison.

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I'm thinking I might share the rest of this story over the next couple weeks, scrape up the bus fare I need to get to my new city of residence, and get on down the road. Nothing against you, Houston, you know I love you, but it's obvious after all this time doors of opportunity are not opening for me here.

I'm going to make a fantastic construction worker! I'm going to try that out and see how I like it. I'll be the best, most dedicated construction guy you've ever known. Or maybe a barista. You know, one of those people serving coffee at a coffee shop? Those folks look like they have a pretty good life.

But I'm going to do it somewhere where I can start fresh and new. A change of scenery is what I need. Yeah, I've picked the place but I'm not going to tell you where I'm heading yet. Here's a hint: they have a professional baseball team there. I like pro baseball a lot and you have to be able to catch a ballgame occasionally.

Goodness and mercy follow me all the days of my life. And they will follow me to my new home city. Never fear, I will continue blogging so you can keep up with me.

By the way, the new P.O.D. record dropped in the last week or so. It sounds awesome if you're looking for something to rock out to. I'm going to see how much I can pull together in quarters and dimes and possibly go pick it up. I know a lot of rockers read this blog so I just thought I'd mention it.

To P.O.D.: I'll catch you guys out on the road if there's enough money in the tip jar to pick up a ticket.

Readership is up here, I might mention. Thanks to all of you. I feel warm inside knowing I have something to say that might interest you.

We're going to skip one of the posts I had planned, simply because I truly suspect one of the people involved in this circus has (or had) a medical issue. I don't want to openly embarrass someone who I feel probably did what they did because they needed medical help. If they still want to talk crazy, however, I'll simply digitize the 20 or 30 minutes worth of answering machine messages they left on my phone at 2 a.m.

Those are so ridiculous that if I was to post them here, it would be more popular than that viral video being passed around a year or so ago online of that chubby kid dancing around with a light saber. We'll just leave it at that.

The next person you meet in our story may not need medical help, but they sure could use some leadership training in what not to say to someone in their department.

I like to call this next entry, "Still Alive at Christmastime?"

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