Me Too Part I :(

            I hesitated to write my story about “me too” because so many were out there, but the more I read other people’s experiences, the more I realized that mine has differences that should be told. For this blog, I’m going to write about the one time I was verbally harassed and the one time an employer touched me inappropriately.

            I used to go to a Chevron gas station near where I lived as there wasn’t another one within a reasonable distance of home or work. One night as I was leaving after paying, the attendant said, “See you later, Sweetheart.”

            I politely asked him not to call me “sweetheart.” The next time I saw him, it happened again. It happened repeatedly, so I finally made it a point to talk to the manager. She literally said, “He doesn’t mean anything by it.”

            What!? At that point, I was stunned. I came to her as a customer to complain about behavior that I found offensive, but instead of saying, “I’ll talk to him,” she acted like it was no big deal. I was so shocked and disappointed that I just walked out.

            I did think about finding another gas station, but the only other ones in the vicinity sold a lower quality of gas. Being a single woman who depended on her car, gas quality was important. I also spoke with another employee there about writing a letter to the owner, but he assured me that the manager would read it, so there was no point.

            He finally stopped one night when I started to walk out after paying. He called me “sweetheart,” again. I turned around, kicked the partially closed door open, and said, “DON’T EVER CALL ME ‘SWEETHEART,’ AGAIN.”

            I didn’t yell, but I was very “firm” in my tone of voice.  I was no longer politely requesting him to stop, but rather demanding that he stop. Either he finally got the message, or I never saw him again. I don’t remember at this point.

            When I was a teenager I got my first “real” job primarily doing phone sales for a two man carpet cleaning company. Once in a while I got to go out in the field with them and clean carpets. I didn’t earn much money, but it did give me some real “job” experience. For a few weeks.

            One night when we’d all been out cleaning carpets, the boss decided to stop by a liquor store. He asked me what I wanted. I was underage, so I didn’t know anything about alcohol. I don’t remember what I said, but I do remember thinking, “Great! I’m going to get to try some alcohol.”

            It didn’t occur to me that he had other things on his mind besides giving me alcohol. Even after we got back to the “office,” which was located in his home and he started talking about having a recording of Marilyn Monroe giving some guy a blow job, I didn’t realize what he was hoping would happen.

            As we sat there, sipping our drinks and listening to the recording of Marilyn, I stretched with my arms high over my head. As I did so, my boss reached out and poked me right in the nipple on both sides. I was surprised and uncertain it had happened, so I stretched again. He poked me again.

            At this point, I didn’t know what to do or think about the situation. I still didn’t realize what his full intent was, either. Just as I’m sitting there wondering what to do and starting to realize that I need to get out of there, my mother pulled into the driveway. I grabbed my things and left. I asked my mother what had made her come to pick me up from work and she told me that it was getting late and she was concerned.

            By the next day, I was angry at my boss and had decided to never go back. I called him to give him the courtesy of letting him know, but got no answer. I called repeatedly for a couple of days to tell him. When I finally did reach him, all he said was, “Oh, hi. What’s up?”

            As if nothing had happened. I told him he could go to hell for all I cared as I was never coming back to work for him. Then I slammed the phone in his ear. This was in the days before cordless phones. The last time I saw him, I was with a friend of mine walking somewhere. I had stopped to re-tie my shoe when I heard a horn honk. I looked up just in time to see my former boss driving by. I stuck my middle finger up at him.

            Looking back on this, I realize I was lucky in more ways than one. I didn’t have to have a job, so I didn’t have to put up with his crap. Also, my mother showed up just in time to keep me from getting drunk and/or sexually assaulted. I know now that had I stayed there too much longer that night or any other day, I would have at some point been sexually assaulted by my boss and possibly his partner.

            I’m very thankful I wasn’t. I never did tell my mother what happened that night, but it wouldn’t surprise me if she figured out something had happened.

Next week I’ll write about the sexual assaults that hurt me most. Unfortunately there was more than one.