‘Hello’ Was Not a Proposition
The burden of proof is on the accuser.
This is the thought at the forefront of my mind as I weigh the arguments for and against taking action. It, together with all the thoughts that follow, is accompanied by a deep, unbroken sigh. With a rock on one side and a hard place on the other, you’d think I’d have someplace to lean. But no, the cheese stands alone.
Was it just last weekend I was crowing about how lucky I feel? What the hell was I thinking? I know better than that. I may as well have bent over and mooned a priest ferchrissakes.
Fuck. Fuckity fuck fuck fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.
Well, I got that out of my system at any rate.
I don’t know if it’s worth it to do what the bigwigs have termed ‘The Right Thing’ in light of the nature of the incident. It’s not like I was held down and brutalized, or squooshed into a corner and felt up, or bruised, or cut, or scraped. In fact, there is no evidence whatsoever of the so-called assault, unless you count one eyewitness who caught my startled reaction. The slimy devil simply reached behind his back, grabbed a handful of my ass and groped. He didn’t even look over his shoulder to see if I was going to react. That’s cold. Especially when you consider that his wife was standing right next to him.
Why didn’t I react right away? Why didn’t I just turn around and smack him? Or at the very least holler, “Excuse me?” I don’t know. Shock? Unwillingness to make a scene? Because we’d never shared anything more intimate than idle conversation while waiting for files to process? The fact that it was a company Christmas party and my entire chain of command was standing no more than twenty feet away? I have no idea, but I think it’s a mix of all three, and some of this to boot.
I chose not to report it, although in my organization this sort of behavior runs rampant and has recently become a hot-button issue the management says they will not tolerate. Instead I chose to let the grapevine work its inevitable magic and bring word of his behavior back to him in a way that would make him squirm. But the incident — apparently the most exciting thing to happen to my coworkers all year — took on a life of its own and found its way to a level where there are people who have to take action when they hear scuttlebutt of such a nature. I had to repeat my account behind four different closed doors today, and each time it just made me feel grubbier.
Of course he swears he’s innocent, and even went so far as to demand an investigation to prove it. So now I have to make a choice in the face of Mr. Grabbyhands’ staunch denial. Either I file a formal complaint (which management is ‘highly encouraging’) and suffer six months of having my every action, thought, and word dragged through the mud and into the open for the merciless scrutiny of corporate witch-hunters, or I shut up and try to ignore how guilty, spineless and dishonest it makes me look. It was an ass grab! Is it worth the stress, the accusations, the constant defense of the truth of my story, and the fact that my life will essentially be tied to that dirty old man’s by a court case for months on end? I will lose far more than anyone else, because no matter what happens, he won’t pay. He’s leaving tomorrow, which is why I think he took the liberty in the first place.
Coworkers are already weighing in and picking sides, and I can’t begin to guess who falls where.