What if I had been a victim of inappropriate conduct, just like all those young women and men who were lured into uncompromising positions by actors and politicians recently. I was hit on by a female one time after starting my first job in Etobicoke. I was only 21 and fresh from the Valley.
To hit on someone means vying with a person to get a date for a relationship or sex. Many people feel this can easily cross the boundary to become focused on a creepy vibe or sexual harassment itself. Whereas, flirting with someone is an innocent action complimenting that person to make them feel good about themselves and is much less aggressive and more playful.
She was the office girl who delivered messages to the employees. Despite being seen so often on her rounds she was virtually invisible to all the male employees, who in the court of public opinion saw her as a plain jane, too inconsequential to catch anyone’s eye. In only a few days, I learned of her reputation for trying to grab attention from the guys and promised myself that I would not be caught off-guard. This plain jane appeared to have no self-confidence or self-esteem or anything positive to offer. Her persona fully expected social isolation from others and of course got just that. Although nearly as tall as I was, her shoulders were slumped as if beaten down by a lifetime of rejections. I was a newbie so wasn’t fully cognizant of her desperation to make a friend, any friend.
One day as she passed, there was a meek hello but I quickly discounted it as an anomaly. A few days later, another approach, only this time it was “Hello Bob.” How did she know my name, she never speaks to others? It was scary! I knew of an upcoming company Christmas dance in a few weeks and an appalling thought flashed though my mind that she might be looking for a date. The next time she came around my area the predictable question popped up. Asked if I could be her escort to the dance I was struck with a loss for words, wishing I was any other place than here, even homeless on the streets. She waited and waited without taking a breath I swear. I wanted to say no but her dog-eared look and my propensity for the no-hopers made it impossible to say it to her face.
She had on a nice outfit when I arrived to pick her up that only improved her physical appearance marginally. She lived with her parents whom she introduced me to. They made me so welcome that it dawned on me that they very much wanted her married to just anybody and out of their hair.
Next the dinner and dance: the evening was remorseful as well as nerve-wracking. During the meal I managed to avoid her glances by cramming down more food than needed. Finally, the band started up as I was still going over every flimsy excuse I could think of for leaving early. As feared, she pulled me onto the dance floor and kept me there for nearly every song that I wasn’t either at the washroom or making a fake phone call to my very ill mother. Her dancing was sinewy and rhythmic – not tempting to me but too dazzling for my stumbling about. Still that didn’t deter her. Each dance she was more assertive, then more amorous, eventually nestling into my shoulder and touching my neck with her moist lips. I shuddered but didn’t know what to say! The guys from work had noticed and reacted with amusement and grins as they passed us on the dance-floor. I anticipated the teasing that would happen at work on Monday morning and felt more crestfallen thinking about it. Would they see me as being submissive or just a sucker? If that wasn’t bad enough, I began worrying about driving her home.
It came to a climax in the parking lot. No seatbelts back then to restrain someone with pent up feelings. She slid across the seat tight against me, looked up and said “What would you like now lover boy?” It came out like an explosive whose timer had run out – I screamed “No”. Dead silence. Then I added, “I’m sorry. I’m just not ready for a relationship.” Silence continued the rest of the way to her place. I felt bad for her but good for me.
Now when all these young women and men are coming out after being hit on so many years ago, I couldn’t claim harassment even if I wanted to – I don’t know her name.
