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Downtown Binghamton rape


Bazooka Joe
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18 minutes ago, Joe Friday said:

More District Attorney’s Office employees partying at Colonial. The breaded guy at the end of the bar in the suit is ADA Lucas Finley. He doesn’t look sober.

Korchak’s staff are regulars at the Colonial, and friends with the owners. 

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I wonder how Nasty Nadine Korchak will explain this to the parishioners at St. Michael’s on Sunday? It looks like the DA employees are always drunk at Colonial. 

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On 12/9/2021 at 7:35 PM, Late 1 said:

Look at this monster pervert deviant. 

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its been reported that this scumbag Jordan ringden was sleeping with Kris kasmarcik (one of the other owners) wife who filed divorce papers on Kris today. Supposedly it’s being said Kris walked in on them as well doing the “No Pants Dance” if you know what I mean.
 

People doing damage control on Facebook are saying the divorce has been going on way before the allegations however after viewing the Broome county Clerk’s website, today’s filing has been the only filing in Broome County for Kris Kasmarcik.

 

Dirty Business ehhh, Lawsuits will be flying here shortly internally and liquidation in their near future you can count on that!!!

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He’s an account from another victim and former employee who posted to social media.

https://www.facebook.com/1343685318/posts/10227618674876126/?d=n

since a lot of the news and information is circulating on Facebook, I’ll share here. feel free to share with anyone who can benefit from having this info. 

TW: sexual assault and self harm
over the past couple of days, I have had friends reach out to me regarding the accusations against one or more of the Colonial owners, which include drugging and raping as many as 15 girls in the basement of the bar. There isn’t an official story yet, but these brave young women are coming out with their stories. The youngest one being 17.

When I moved to Binghamton for grad school in June 2018, I only knew 2 people who lived there. The day after I moved in, I got a job at Dos Rios. In my first week, I had to explain to the owners why hosting a “mustache and sombrero” party was inappropriate. “Bad PR” I told them, knowing that ethics wouldn’t be enough to persuade them. When I voiced my concern, I was met with “Motti, I thought you were 
cool.”

I spent everyday of the week at Dos Rios. We worked as late as 2am and went in as early as 10am on the weekends. We would all go out together after our shifts, and there was a family-type vibe that was created. I know it’s the same for Colonial. I became friends with one of the owners. He lived above the downtown bars and would have myself and other servers back to continue the party. It always felt safe, even if we crashed there for the night. 

He became someone who I would vent to when the girl I liked didn’t like me back, or when I was feeling existential, and I was happy to have a friend in this new town. He felt like a safe male friend, because he knew I was gay and was there for me when I needed it. 

One night I was at Dos Rios as a customer, crying over the girl I liked at the time, and was very drunk and alone. He saw that I was upset, and didn’t want me to drive, and offered his place to crash. We sat on his kitchen counter criss-cross applesauce, drinking, and I cried to him. The next thing I knew, he was biting my lips when I pushed him off me, telling him to stop, that he hurt me. He laughed. Actually, he giggled. I did not give him permission to touch me. I don’t remember anything after that. I do know, because I checked the next morning, that around 3am or so I texted my best friend at the time: I really don’t like this come pick me up. 

I woke up the next morning, in his bed, in a panic. I grabbed my things, checked the window to make sure my car was still parked on the street, and went to leave. He called from his bed, “you aren’t going to give me a hug goodbye?” And with my skin crawling, I did.

When I got home, I saw in the mirror that my lips were black and blue and swollen. I remember looking myself in the eyes in the mirror and disassociating. I went to my bedroom and self harmed for the first time in years. I then became afraid of being alone, so I walked to my best friends house and sat on her couch, concerned I might get blood on it while we watched early morning Jeopardy. 

In following weeks, I distanced myself from this man, I stopped reaching out, stopped wanting to go out after shifts. He eventually asked me “why are you acting so weird?” after I handed him my cash-out for the night. I still hadn’t quite worked out my feelings about what happened, and was misplacing blame in myself, and told him I felt weird because I couldn’t remember that night. He didn’t respond. His name was on my paychecks. It was never acknowledged and I never got an apology.

So then I lost one of my closest friends, I lost the feeling of safety where I was spending the majority of my time, and I felt a financial need to continue working there. So I did. I attended my manager meetings, where the three female managers were never taken seriously. Where we would discuss firing and hiring staff as if it meant nothing. Where I was instructed to always have managements side when servers came to me with issues. Where I was told that “you’re a manager now, so you can’t fuck or do drugs with the servers. Now you can fuck and do drugs with the managers.” There’s a reason every time you went into Dos Rios there was a new server or host or bartender to meet. Good work environments don’t have staff weekly staff turnover. 

I say all of this to paint a picture of the environment of these establishments, of these men. A group of white, wealthy, well-connected men who have monopolized downtown and made it there fucking playground to do cocaine and hang out with girls. In a city boasting with small business owners submitting grants every year for the chance to compete with them. 

This group has a very special way of making you feel like when you’re with them, you’re on the right team. They are buddies with everyone’s favorite, Mayor Rich David. Some of their most loyal customers are Binghamton Police officers. They’re as powerful as they are unethical and it’s not a secret. 

There are many members of management and the staff at both of these establishments who are good, kind people. And while there are a select few who aren’t, my issue is with the ownership group. It consists of abusers and narcissists. Grown men who act like they’re untouchable. Who have, up until now, been untouchable. 

Thank you to the brave young women coming forward about their stories. I believe you and I support you. I’m sorry I didn’t speak up sooner. Thank you to my friends who have reached out to me this week to check in on me. Thank you to my friends at Garage and Lost Dog, who took me in and made me feel safe when I decided to leave Dos Rios.

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