**My Experience Working at Kombucha Kamp**

Products? Good. Owners? Sexual harassers. And abusive.

Jan 06, 2026

WARNING: This article contains descriptions of sexual harassment and verbal abuse in the workplace. Victims of either may be disturbed by the content.

In 2014 I was looking for work after leaving over-the-road trucking due to dissatisfaction with the company I was with. I answered a craigslist ad for a business close to my home looking for temporary workers. Shortly after applying I received a phone call from Alex LaGory about what at the time was a home-based business called Kombucha Kamp. The pay was low but the job sounded interesting and was located just over three miles from my home so I accepted an offer to work on a temporary basis.

The job was quite diverse. I learned about kombucha culture farming, how to make jun as well as milk & water kefir, and was involved in order fulfillment and shipping/packaging. It was a small team consisting of the owners Alex & Hannah (Hannah Crum, recently changed to Hannah Ruhamah because KKamp has resorted to having her sell psychic astrological readings and tarot sessions online at this point, I wish I was kidding), a young lady who was Hannah’s assistant, and two other workers. I enjoyed the work and got along well with everyone. After a few weeks I was offered a full-time position, which I accepted. The full time pay was lower than I had been accustomed to in the past but I was making my monthly budget and enjoyed the very short commute time so the situation was acceptable. I also was aspiring to expand my experience in the area of sync music and short feature scores and liked the fact that we rarely had to work weekends (mostly when an event such as a fermentation festival was occurring).

About a month into my regular employment, Hannah fired her assistant. My understanding was that she had booked a flight for an event on the day of the event and made attending it impossible. I was taught a few things that Hannah needed assistance with, mainly involving flavor tasting and culture experiments to support a book Hannah & Alex were writing. It involved computer work and hands-on kitchen work. The computer I used was on a table in what would have normally been the dining area of the home we worked out of. One thing that my supervisor (I’ll call him “F”) taught me is that Hannah & Alex were all about efficiency. For example, if I was loading a Google Doc and I typed the full name of a site instead of just the “G” it would make them think I was being inefficient and wasting time. Well, one day I was tasked with ordering some items on Amazon. I typed “A” and the web browser auto-populated “Amateur Cumshots.”

I spent as little time as possible thinking about either Hannah or Alex whacking off while sitting in the chair I was using. I erased the entry and got on with my work.

During one task that was taking place in the kitchen, Hannah was standing beside me giving instructions. We were both facing the countertop. As she was talking, she leaned on me, placing her flabby boobs on my right shoulder. No one else was present. I found a reason to move away. I’d had women do that in the past, once with someone I worked with in radio and once with an old college pal I was writing a parody script with at her home. In the previous cases I didn’t make a move because I wasn’t interested in that kind of “flirting.” In Hannah’s case, not only was I not attracted to her but I had a lady in my life who I was and still am committed to. And this is one of my BOSSES doing it! That was not a situation I enjoyed being in.

On another day, when the rest of the remaining team were in the guest house we used as an order fulfilment center, both Alex and Hannah appeared at the door near the table I was working at. Alex spoke, “So, Doug, huh?” and Hannah replied something to the effect of, “Yeah!” I had no idea what they were referring to so I deflected by saying something like, “Did I do something wrong?” It was very strange and I felt uneasy but they just walked away, presumably to return to their office in the home which was upstairs.

Hannah was an impatient and unfair taskmaster. She pressured people to do things as fast as possible and I had to tell her at one point that I was still learning things and needed time to process her directions correctly because they were always two, three, four ideas at a time with zero time to take clear notes. Speaking of notes, she would occasionally leave a small list of things for me to do. One time she indicated she wanted a sleeve of pint cups. As I indicated previously, we were experimenting with different flavors for different cultures. When the cups arrived she was FURIOUS with me.

“What the hell are these?”

I answered, “Pint cups. The ones you wanted me to order.”

“WE DON’T USE THESE! WE USE QUART CUPS!”

While it was true we had used quart cups for some of the experiments, there was never any clear reason for that size because the amount of liquid we used rarely took up barely half of the cup’s capacity. I also had learned not to question her about what to me seemed like a very clear instruction in writing.

“YOU ORDERED THE WRONG ONES! SEND THEM BACK!”

Well, dear readers… as you can see on the paper I just happened to have saved in a drawer all these years, she clearly wrote PINT. Unfortunately, I didn’t find this note until long after I’d left the company’s employment so I never got to show her the mistake in person.

Picture of a handwritten To Do list with “sleeve of plastic pint containers” circled

I ended up paying the team leader “F” twenty bucks and kept the cups for myself to use at home. They’re quite handy for leftovers and such.

Not long after that I was doing computer work at the dining table and Hannah was reviewing some of my work. I had a piece of paper on my lap which contained notes about flavor experiments and we were creating a database for future reference. Out of the blue, Hannah moved the paper on my lap and roughly grazed her hand on my penis. I was wearing cargo shorts at the time but it was still uncomfortable. I stared at the computer, thinking “Did that just really happen?” To be crystal clear, there was NO reason for her to grab the paper on my lap. I had been transcribing my notes into the database and all the info was on the computer monitor for her to read. She had a weird smirk on her face. Suddenly, she stood up and left the room, taking the paper with her. I closed the browser window and went on to my next task with the team.

That night, I struggled with what had happened. Her outburst about ordering cups that were the wrong size had agitated me but I have never been touched in that way by anyone I was employed by. And, I was absolutely NOT attracted to her in any way, shape, or form. I weighed my options. Because I was barely making my monthly budget, I couldn’t just quit over the issue without finding another job immediately. My mind also kept going back to the “Amateur Cumshots” entry in the web browser, and the creepy way both Hannah & Alex had stared at me while talking about me on the day I described earlier. I decided to stay at the job, to avoid being physically near Hannah as best I could, and to look for other employment in my spare time. I also “called in sick” on days when I needed to apply in person or attend an interview.

I started dreading going to work. The job search was not going well. Before obtaining a Class A license and driving tractor-trailers all over the states, I’d worked in alarm security & service scheduling & billing. There were few jobs available in either of those fields. I applied at grocery stores, audio production facilities, even janitorial work. I received no offers of employment. The trucking jobs were all over the road and I was not interested in doing that so soon, so I stuck with Kombucha Kamp.

For months after the cock-grazing incident, Hannah didn’t harass me. However, one day I was in their kitchen (a large area with a center island which we produced multiple cultures and products on). She was preparing something on their stovetop (maybe her and Alex’s lunch) and I was on the opposite side of the island, facing her but not close to her. She was wearing a knee-length dress at the time and had her back to me. Suddenly, she hiked her skirt above her hips, grabbed the thin hose she was wearing, and pulled it tightly on both sides, exposing her very lumpy ass to me. She dropped her dress and seemed to be staring at the stove for a moment. She then left the kitchen without saying a word and I went back to my task.

Hannah and Alex married and thankfully the harassment stopped for a while. But only for a short time. I had hoped that committing to Alex would get her to leave me and others alone, but she was still quite inappropriate. One day, I heard her talking to an employee I’ll call “J.” She was making strange references to him wanting to date men and he was clearly trying to avoid the conversation. “J” had an adversarial relationship with Alex as well. Alex was quite hard on “J” when “J” made a mistake or didn’t complete a task on time, being quick to loudly and verbally berate “J.”

“So,” I thought to myself. “They’re both abusive.”

For a short time, Alex & Hannah tried to build camaraderie with the workers with something they called “Friday Fun Day.” Essentially, one of us would share a 3–5 minute video of something fun online. When it was my turn I chose the “NOICE!” skit from Key & Peele. When it was Alex’s turn, he chose the video for “Baby’s On Fire” from the South African techno/rap duo Die Antwoord. I do not recommend watching it. The beginning of the video features the female of the duo prominently wearing a shirt with the phrase “WHO NEED TITS?” on it while being berated by the male partner (playing her brother) for being sexually attractive. Oh, and the video has a lot of shots of that same male wearing nothing but underwear and jamming his crotch at the camera. And strippers. And a creepy shot of an actor playing the female’s father staring at her ass as she grabs something from a fridge. And a quick shot of three framed photos on a household wall, one of which is a 60s/70s era Playboy centerfold that looks like it was pulled right out of the magazine. And the lyrics contain a LOT of f-bombs, not exactly appropriate work material. And after a naked dude jumps out a window we’re treated to a clear shot of his entire bare ass and backside. And the female of the duo throws a brick at the face of the male, which results in him landing on the ground while spewing a lot of blood from his mouth.

That’s what Alex thought would be “fun” for the whole group to watch.

(An aside, in later years, a child the musical duo had adopted accused that same male of exposing him to pornography and nudity as a minor, using him as child labor for their music videos, and encouraging him to participate in violent activities.)

No one else on the team seemed to enjoy the music or the video while watching it. I remember Hannah being in the room along with the group but don’t recall glimpsing her reaction to it. I was too busy being aghast at the terrible song and the rancid images on the screen. “Friday Fun Day” didn’t last much longer after that.

In July of 2015 the FIFA Women’s World Cup resulted in a win by the U.S. over Japan’s team. Alex had been known to come into the kitchen as the work team was plugging away at some task and to express joy at his beloved Lakers winning a game, but on the day after the FIFA win he thought he had jokes. Well, one joke. He kept saying over and over again, “Our lesbians are the best lesbians!”

No one laughed but he kept saying it anyway, as if he couldn’t believe no one thought it was funny. It was around the third or fourth time he said it that I remember thinking to myself, “A bunch of women came together as a team to win a sporting event and all he can think about is which ones are gay? Did he spend all night fantasizing about watching them have after-game sex?”

Not long after that incident, I was in what we called the back office with “F” and “J.” We were preparing packing materials for orders. We started hearing SCREAMING from the house. Alex and Hannah were having a massive fight during work hours in their upstairs office and while we couldn’t make out most of their words, we could tell it was bitter and nasty from their tones and constant interruptions of each other. At one point Hannah was threatening to fire everyone and end the company and I heard Alex tell her he wouldn’t let her do that.

“F” had worked for them for quite some time so I asked if this had ever happened before. He said sadly it had, although it had been quite some time since the previous incident. The fighting stopped after what seemed like a full hour.

While not sexual harassment, Alex engaged in activity which was disturbing one summer day. I had been asked to order multiple items for a photoshoot for their upcoming book. They were various bowls, knick-knack style flavor receptacles and jars, things of that nature. When they arrived the entire team was gathered together, including newer employees I’ll call “A” and “N,” in the kitchen. We were discussing which items would go best for which kinds of photos when Alex picked up a glass container about the size of a hand. He raised it about a foot then dropped it on the granite countertop of the island. “It’s fine, “ he said. “It’s unbreakable glass.”

I had not ordered unbreakable glass.

He picked it up and dropped it from a taller height. It bounced again, making a sharper noise when it connected with the island. Everyone grew silent. Even he said nothing. By the third or fourth time, the container shattered and glass went everywhere. Alex had a strange look of glee on his face, like he enjoyed confusing everyone with his behavior. He asked employee “J” to clean it up and that was pretty much the end of the meeting.

Later I thought to myself, ”And now Mr. Abusive is showing he’ll turn weirdly destructive on a whim. Fan-fucking-tastic. This is a hostile work environment.”

Another hostile incident occurred with Alex regarding brewing vessels. Hannah and Alex bought extremely cheap ceramic vessels to sell as part of kombucha brewing kits. They procured them for $8.50 at the time and sold them for nearly five times the price. Alex was inspecting one vessel and asked me to stick my hand in it. At first I thought he was joking, like there was something in the vessel that would surprise me. When I balked, his demeanor flipped like a switch.

”THIS IS YOUR JOB! I’M TELLING YOU TO DO SOMETHING FOR YOUR JOB!”

When I told him I thought he was playing around he made quite clear that is something he would never do. Which, dear reader, you know is untrue because of the glass-breaking incident described above. Alex was a hypocrite. He’d get “serious” when it served his desire to be “in charge” and seen as the BOSS, but would try to joke around other times. I’m sure it would take years of therapy for him to acknowledge the mixed signals he gave to his employees.

One summer the team including Hannah and Alex were working a set of tables at a fermentation festival in Santa Barbara. We were talking to people about all things kombucha, jun, and kefir and selling products. At one point a petite attractive blonde who appeared to be in her mid-20s approached the table and asked a few questions. As she was walking away, Alex said out loud, “I WOULD TEAR THAT UP.” I was standing to his left and Hannah was at his right. He and I had never discussed anything so puerile in such a manner, so I don’t know what made him think it was appropriate to say that in my presence. I said nothing and glanced at Hannah, who appeared to be pretending it hadn’t happened.

During another screaming match not much after that event I heard Alex loudly proclaim to Hannah that he would lie to food inspectors if it meant getting approval for the new facility they wanted to move into. Another note to self, Douglas… it’s confirmed, you’re working for a brazenly immoral pair.

When “F” took a position with another company and left the business, I was designated team leader. No raise was involved, just different duties. And of course I was expected to essentially be a master brewer with no additional pay as well. I stuck with the job because I still hadn’t found new employment and was barely making my budget each month.

Shortly after taking the position, Alex told me I was being inefficient. I asked him how so. I should preface this by saying we used Messenger to communicate, both on the work computer and via phone. Alex told me I was wasting time when I responded with “OK” to his messages and that I should just type “K.”

As you can imagine, my jaw just about dropped to the floor. I’ve been a writer since about the seventh grade and had an actual mechanical typewriter by then. When I was working for Alex & Hannah my speed hovered around 70–75 wpm. And Alex was telling me that typing “OK” instead of “K” was eating into their profits?! Unbelievable fucking nonsense.

As the release date for the book Alex and Hannah were writing drew near, Alex started talking more about moving the company to another facility. He took me to dinner one evening and dangled a manager position in my face. I’d led and managed teams in the past and had been acting in the capacity for months when he did it. We spoke for an hour on the subject. Barely a couple weeks later, he told me he had decided to hire an old friend with more restaurant experience. I wasn’t upset by his choice, after all I’d never procured kitchen equipment and was still technically trying to find another job to get away from him and Hannah, but I found it disheartening that he didn’t even tell me he was considering anyone else for the position during our meeting. It seemed crass and callous.

When it came time for the move, we were informed that the new facility was in Torrance, a city nearly twenty miles away.

I was livid. I had stuck with the company because I needed another job before I could leave and now they were going to kill my budget and free time by making me travel in Southern California traffic for forty minutes to an hour in the morning and at its worst two hours in the evening. I also had to purchase a car or face 2–3 hours of bus and/or train travel in each direction, so eventually that destroyed my savings. I displayed a positive attitude at work but could feel the stress wearing on me. Oh, and I can actually prove that they thought I had a positive attitude. Here are the inscriptions from Hannah & Alex inside the copy of their book which they gave me (everyone on staff received one).

Picture of handwritten dedications

Hannah’s reads: ““Dear Doug, We grow together! So grateful for your positive energy. Brew long and prosper.”

Alex’s was simpler: “Thank you for your contributions over the years. Happy Brewing!!”

This was the problem with both of them. They were nice to your face or in writing but would harass you or verbally insult your work in person when it suited them.

At another fermentation festival, Alex spent the better part of fifteen minutes telling the owner of another company, “You REALLY should have been in the hot tub last night!” He said it loud enough for everyone at our table to hear, and repeated it so many times that my old radio instincts almost kicked in. On each repetition, the emphasis on the word “really” became stronger and stronger. I wanted to say, “WHAT HAPPENED IN THE FUCKING HOT TUB?” but maintained control.

One day at the new facility, “N” was tasked with installing a biological disposal unit in a restroom. Hannah was at the location and asked me to show her the work when it was completed. It had been some time since she had harassed me but I was still leery about being alone with her so I asked an employee I’ll call “A” to stick close. When “N” was finished I let Hannah know the installation was complete and as she walked by me and “A” to inspect the installation she loudly proclaimed, “This is the only time you’ll get me in the bathroom, Douglas!”

I looked at “A.” She seemed mortified. Hannah went into the bathroom alone as “A” and I stayed near the door. Hannah was happy with the work. Later I said to “A,” “I’m glad you heard that.”

About six months into working at the new facility, I started having respiratory problems. I’ve always been sensitive to bad air, a condition I attribute to my father being a chain-smoker when I was an infant. I took cough syrup, used lozenges, and blamed the new facility’s proximity to an oil refinery. Some days the air was incredibly bad and the main area of the new facility had weak air circulation so we kept a rolling garage-style door open for a breeze. I was tasked with computer work for at least a couple hours a day. After being unable to shake the coughing and breathing issues I had, I closely examined my computer monitor. It was COVERED in tiny lint particles. This is a picture of the monitor, I swiped it near the middle-right with two fingers before taking the snapshot:

Picture of white dust on a computer monitor that’s powered off

That picture, by the way? That was taken after completely wiping the monitor off the day before. The lint or dust or whatever you want to call it was only visible when the monitor was turned off.

I told Hannah about it. I also mentioned that me, “N,” and “A” had talked about feeling like the culture processing room got quite humid at times and that it was probably bad for our respiratory systems. She ignored the dust on the monitor and said, “Well, we have an air system in there!” (referring to the processing room). She was right, there was a heater/air conditioner combo system in the room. “Don’t they all clean the air?” she added.

Dear reader, I’m sure you’re aware of the fact that some HVAC systems just push hot or cold air out and do NOT have filtration. I was unable to confirm if the one in the facility did or not but the amount of dust and humidity I tolerated while feeling sick and mistreating the symptoms indicated to me that it didn’t have a filtration system. It also struck me that Hannah and Alex were quite cheap when it came to purchasing equipment and that it was likely they didn’t buy a proper system due to that habit. For example, when we needed a washer & dryer for the facility, they purchased the cheapest set they could find from a reseller on craigslist who rebuilt worn or damaged units, instead of acquiring a proper new one.

In January of 2018, I learned that Hannah must have wanted to be a cheerleader. She came to the new facility for a team building exercise she called “Wooden Wisdom.” You can learn more about it here. During the exercise, she told me, “N,” and “A” that we would be learning a cheer. After playing her recorded version of it, I thought it was more akin to a cult-like chant. Both “N” and “A” were resistant to performing it as well. It went like this:

We are Kombucha Kampers!

Keeping our minds and bodies uplifted to create healthy attitudes!

Kindness! Ambition! Mindfulness!

Positivity! Equanimity! And respect!

We are on a mission, to change the world one gut at a time,

Through closing the loop and tuning in to our inner truth!

That’s what we call Trust Your Gut!

She told us to memorize it for the next meeting. At the next meeting, I refused to say it. I didn’t outright say, “I’m not doing this. It’s weird and culty.” Both “A” and “N” picked up on my defiance and also stopped trying to do it. Hannah was upset that we didn’t want to be chanty cultists.

Soon afterward, I found myself in a one-on-one conversation with Alex. He placed his phone between us at the table where we were talking. It was obvious to me that he was either recording the conversation or was connected to someone else so they could listen. He emphatically tried to get me to support practicing the cheer. I refused, saying it was weird and that parts didn’t make sense and it didn’t roll off the tongue. But what really got his goat was that I kept referring to it as a CHANT.

”Cheer,” he would say. At one point he said, “It’s a CHEER, not a chant. Why do you keep calling it a chant?” I responded with, “Because it’s a CHANT! It doesn’t rhyme, it’s just too weird for me!”

The conversation continued. I made clear that I was not going to budge on the issue. I mentioned during the conversation that I’ve never defied a job directive but that this one was just too weird for me. Then HE accidentally referred to it as a chant. I laughed, that was the end of the conversation, and neither of them tried to force the team to do it again.

The last time Hannah harassed me was extremely weird. We were both working quietly at separate desks at the new facility, about twenty feet apart. The desks were situated at an angle so we could see each other’s faces. She looked up from her computer monitor, took in a deep breath, and said, “Douglas, do you love me?”

I said something like, “I love you both,” trying to remind her that she had a husband but failing miserably. Thankfully, she said nothing else and I finished my work in silence. That night I pondered the entire situation. Is THAT what all her harassment was about? Was I giving off signals that I was interested in her? I decided I was NOT giving such signals because I’d never been harassed like Hannah had done. The closest thing that had ever happened was in the seventh grade. My locker was next to one used by two taller eighth grade girls who’d call me “sexpot” and try to muss my hair, but that was more embarrassing than harassment.

In the fall of 2017, Alex, the new manager I’ll call “D” and I were sitting in the employee break area at work. We were having lunch and discussing current events. The topic of the recent public flood of sexual assault & rape allegations came up. Alex defended the assaults by stating his belief that being a victim of sexual predation is just a fact of life and part of humanity. I did not respond but wanted to call him a fucking pig.

The last straw at Kombucha Kamp was a raise I was given in the summer of 2018. We’d been in the new facility for over a year and I had come up with some procedures that greatly minimized the time needed for a few of the repetitive tasks. It didn’t help that I was still salty about the increase in travel expenses, but this raise took the cake. I’d been learning how to handle customer service, become involved in sourcing things like organic honey and other items, and was a valuable member of the team. In fact, during the four years I was with the company I was the only team member who had been allowed to work solo after a holiday to fulfill orders due to my efficiency and attention to detail.

I was given a work performance review by Hannah and “D.” I was told I was doing a good job and there was little they needed me to improve upon. Hannah said, “So, we’re going to give you a raise. We’re going to increase your pay by twenty-five cents an hour.”

FLAMES… on the side… of my FACE!

I smiled. I said, “Thanks!” and we all stood up to end the meeting.

Ten fucking dollars a week. All the time I’ve spent trying to do a good job until I could find something else, all the money spent on gasoline & car expenses, and I’m only worth an extra ten bucks a week to them? And I’d been responsible for distributing payroll at one point, I knew Alex and Hannah were paying each other at least $4000 a month while keeping everyone else close to minimum wage.

And I just realized I lied to you, dear readers. The actual last straw was when Hannah thought it would be funny to call me a derogatory name in front of temp workers. We were all involved in processing kombucha cultures, not exactly a challenge for the mind, so I was engaging in a fun discussion with the ladies. They were both native Spanish speakers so I was asking them how to say some phrases. This had been going on for ten to fifteen minutes. Hannah was in the room, running the tea station about five feet away. At one point I said to the ladies, “Maybe I’m talking too much. How do you say, ‘talks too much’ in Spanish?”

And Hannah loudly blurted out, “FAGGOT!”

No one laughed. I felt enraged but kept my composure. Hannah was quite used to being the center of attention when she was in the room, was it jealously? I’d never done anything to indicate I was into men (mainly because I’m NOT) and if I was I would have sued the SHIT out of Hannah for the slur. I remembered the time barely a couple years ago when she was trying to cajole “J” into dating men, does she have a thing for homosexual males? At any rate, that was the true last straw. I wanted to quit on the spot but didn’t because of personal situations involving my long-time lady’s sick mother. I had to be careful not to tip my precarious financial situation and stay with the company for far longer than was probably healthy to do so.

I amped up my job search. I went back to tractor-trailer work. I gave a proper two-week notice. My exit interview was conducted by Alex, but it took a direction I was not pleased with. It was just the two of us, in the kitchen at the home we’d worked at before moving operations to Torrance. As I arrived, he was walking into the kitchen.

“Well, we had a good run, Doug. I’m so glad I have a big cock.”

My last fucking minutes with this company and now ALEX is being inappropriate. He continued, musing about how happy his wife is with his self-proclaimed girth. I gritted my teeth and thought, “Don’t punch him. Don’t confront him. You might need him for a reference if the trucking job doesn’t work out.”

I said nothing about his supposed endowment. Hannah arrived in the driveway and joined the conversation. I thanked them for everything they taught me and looked forward to starting my new job.

After a couple phone calls with one employee and text messages with another I learned two other people considered themselves sexually harassed and/or verbally abused by Hannah and/or Alex. I engaged in the following Messenger exchange with “D” (the current facility manager) in January of 2019, months after I left the company. His full name and profile pic have been redacted.

Screencap of text message conversation (described below)

My writing in the first message is atrocious, but “D” seemed to understand what I was attempting to communicate. If I recall correctly, I was quite tired at the time and wasn’t at my best.

Me: “I have received confirmation from at least two former KKamp employees that they were sexually abused and/or verbally abused by Hannah and/or Alex, in writing in at least one case (the sexual kind). And I’m at least one of the third. How are you? Where do you stand?”

Me (again): *And IN…

“D”: <thumbs-up emoji>

Me: That is an odd response. Thumbs-up to sexual and/or verbal abuse?

“D”: Hey Doug, didn’t mean to send that obviously. Not sure how to absorb this. I’d rather not be involved in any form if at all possible. I don’t want to stand in the way of anything, nor do I want to help facilitate anything. If that makes sense. If you are asking me if I’ve ever felt abused in any way at work, then I’d have to say no.”

Here is a second screencap containing the rest of the conversation.

Screencap of a text conversation as described below

Me: Sure, of course. You have to protect your current status. I get that. All I can ask as a fellow human is to be aware it has happened and that some of the stories are not innocuous. Whether any litigation or public action is taken seems unlikely. Only one of the three is willing to do so. No points for guessing it’s me. But if I’m the only one, it will be a futile effort. And just like Kavanaugh, they get away with it. All my best to you.

“D”: Thank you. Ethically it’s a flat-out confusing area for me considering my position, but it certainly doesn’t make me feel good to hear this. I will say I do not take these kinds things lightly and always would like to side with justice, so if ever anything counter to my experiences thus far do arise then I will keep this in mind. Best to you as well.

Me: <thumbs-up emoji>

I felt good knowing “D” would watch for signs of abusive or inappropriate behavior by Alex or Hannah and that was the last we ever communicated.

A couple weeks after things looked like they were going well at my new job I burned my bridges with Alex and Hannah HARD. I wrote to them both. I let them know in email and on social media that I despised them. I told them they needed fucking counseling. I let Alex know I was working on an essay about my experiences with them. And this is it, over seven years later. It’s been hard to write because every time I thought I’d remembered all the incidents of harassment, another would pop up in my memory. And I’ve started to write this record then discarded the work multiple times over the past few years, thinking that no one would care. But the story wanted OUT, and finally getting it out is part of my healing process. So here it is.

So, if you need brewing advice or products? Kombucha Kamp is expensive but good quality. Just keep in mind that you’re supporting two incredibly inappropriate, immoral, and abusive people who sexually harass their employees.

Appreciate my work? You can support me directly at buymeacoffee.com/dwr1967 — Thanks for reading.