Chapter 4: Skirting the Issue

I’m not gonna lie. I have favourite pieces of clothing. They vary with time and space. This summer, in Trinidad, I was in love with my green wool plaid skirt.

Now, before you start generating schoolgirl fantasies, this was the grown up version: It was knee-length with only one pleat at the front, flat pockets and buttons to the front. Very haute coture.

So last week, I’m sitting at my desk, doing my work, when up comes another employee, always fashionable himself, and leans over me.

“You see that skirt you’re wearing? That’s my favourite skirt to see you in.”

I wanted to rip the skirt off and burn it immediately. I made the deliberate point to turn around and face him, look him up and down, and reply,
“It’s my favourite skirt too. I’d lend it to you, but I don’t think you have the legs for it.”

He smiled. “I said, that’s my favourite-”
I cut him off, smiling saccharinely sweet, but my eyes cold. “I heard what you said, but I assure you, the skirt won’t work for you. Is there anything else?”

He backed off.

I know what happened, and if I brought that to HR, that would have been a serious issue that could cost him his job. At that time, I had 10 more working days in the office, and really wanted to finish without incident. Plus, as much as that was creepy, there was an incident about the week before when I was having a “reaction” of some sort to something I either ate or was exposed to in the warehouse, he drove me to the nearest pharmacy and bought medication while I quietly spazzed out on the counter.

But that does not give him the right to sleaze passes at me.