As the father of a daughter, I can tell you unequivocally--sexual harassment has no place in the workplace. I'm extremely proud of the fact that no one ever filed those charges against me, even during the early 1990s when women were filing lawsuits every three or four minutes, on average. I'm also proud of being a blogger who solves problems, rather than just sitting around complaining about them with one hand on the snark button and the other end up my nose. I bring it and I leave it when I tackle a serious problem. I am not afraid to howl and stomp after difficult answers. I don't take the easy way out. The easy way is where things always go wrong.
With that in mind, let me solve some problems and sort things out. Here's what you do when a woman sexually harasses you--give in! Have glorious sex with her! Make her woof and pant and and beg for more, sir. Make her use nonsensical words and saran wrap-covered gouache drawings to explain what she wants. Make her switch from Catholic to Episcopalian and then back again if she doesn't do it fast enough. Make her clip coupons and purchase lubricants online.
Then, when the dust settles and when she's a cooing, rapturous puddle at your feet, tell her you quit and go find another job. Tell her that, as she protests and grabs your ankles, that the best sex of her life is walking out the door, dignity intact, manliness firmly in hand. Don't even bother putting on your clothes. When they see you walking naked through the hotel, flex your biceps and say something Bruce Campbell would be proud of.
Now, I don't know what you're supposed to do if it's a same-sex situation and your barn door won't swing that way. I guess you would have to go to court, then. But, if you're a man, and a woman is sexually harassing you, do what I outlined above. Don't go to court.
Here, see what you think of this:
Jonathan Pilkington's boss wouldn't take no for an answer.
During more than two years as a food runner at an upscale steakhouse in Scottsdale, Ariz., Pilkington says his male supervisor groped, fondled and otherwise sexually harassed him more than a dozen times.
"It was very embarrassing," Pilkington said. "I felt like I had to do something because the situation was just so bad."
I agree--Mr. Pilkington had to go to court. He had to do something. Giving in? Not an option. This is why women should never give in to the advances of men. How piggish we are as a society to think that we once counseled women to do just that.
In the event of something like this:
Cases involving women making unwanted advances toward men may also be rising as women make up a growing part of the work force. Last year, the Regal Entertainment Group, which operates a national chain of movie theaters, agreed to pay $175,000 to settle a lawsuit by a male employee who claimed a female co-worker repeatedly grabbed his crotch at work.
When the employee complained to his supervisor and the theater's then-general manager, he claims, she failed to stop the harassment and instead retaliated against the victim with unfair discipline and lower performance evaluations.
That's where you leave her a hot mess on shaky bedrails and quit then and there. Nothing cools a situation like a little old-fashioned moral supremacy and honest-to-goodness testosterone. Remember to tell your wife you did it because America demanded it of you; she'll understand that the needs of the country have to come before all other considerations. Yes, you took your female superior to a Motel 6 and threw her ankles over her head and left the impression of one of your butt cheeks firmly embedded in the sheetrock over the bed because those low ceilings got in the way. You did it for your country, though. That absolves you of guilt, you see.
Every law suit that doesn't get filed allows America to grow stronger and happier. Every lawyer that sits idle is a blessing from Heaven. To keep us from failing as a society, the likes of you are going out and doing the likes of her, and you're not even bothering to put on your tighty-whiteys when you're done saving America. And, your various bloggers like myself thank you for your sacrifices. God speed to you, sir. You laid some pipe in a fusty tunnel, and then you dumped that frump in her own wet spot in order to maintain your dignity. You're like an old salty dog, you.
I can't wait to buy you a beer. America owes you a beer, in fact. Make sure that you let the boys down at the American Legion know you took one for the team. Just say it was in the war. Half of those bastards have never heard a shot fired in anger anyway.
Posted via web from An American Lion is on Posterous
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