When saying "no" doesn't work

Warning

This post involves sexual harassment I experienced at the hands of a former co-worker.  

This incident has been weighing heavily on my mind since a conversation I had on Twitter with NonaNelson about sexual harassment in the work place.  With my post going up at Violence Unsilenced on Tuesday, I think it's time to get this one off my chest, too. 

When I was 20 or so, I was in my fourth year at Big Box Retailer and working as a cashier supervisor.  Eric was few years older than me; he did double-duty as the Home Entertainment cashier and stock person.  He also had "grand aspirations" to be a loss prevention officer and "played" at that job when he should have been at his post.  Other than the little interaction that occurred when I'd have to take him cash for his till or do a register adjustment, we really didn't talk at all.

There was one incident in which, at store closing, it came out that he'd be walking home in the pouring rain.  Being the softy that I am famous for, I offered to give him a ride home: it was on my way and I had done it for numerous other co-workers - no big deal.  He exclaimed over my "fancy" car (really, REALLY wasn't), thanked me for the ride, and that was that.

Or so I thought.

After that, things seemed to... shift and change.  He'd make cracks to his buddies (in front of me/loud enough for me to hear/for my benefit) like "Oh, Chibi wants me.  She just doesn't know it yet..." or "Chibi's coming home with ME tonight.  To MY bed."  O_O  Every. Single. Time. he'd make a crack like that, I'd joke it off in a derisive tone of voice, saying stuff like "Not in this lifetime," "You wish," and so on.

I honestly didn't think much of it until one Sunday night when I was trying to get the mall checkouts shut down.  I was dealing with one cashier when Eric and one of his buddies walked up.  To this day, I have no idea what he said - he was playing to his "audience" - but I had retorted with something suitably snotty.  Before I knew it, he had me pulled up against him, my side to his front, gripping me TIGHTLY around the waist as he ground himself into my hip, whispering "You know you want me."

I yanked out of his grasp, looked him dead in the eye, and told him that the only reason my knee wasn't in his crotch was because I was wearing my uniform and that he was to never touch me again.  He and his buddy laughed and walked away.  I was a little shaken, but more embarrassed (like it was somehow MY fault) and pissed off.  The cashier stood there wide-eyed, watching as I angrily shoved money into the cash bag.

I'm not sure at which point I clued in to what had happened: I was just sexually harassed.  Hell, according to the Criminal Code of Canada, I was just sexually assaulted.  Granted, it wasn't to the extent that most people think of when they hear the term, but at the end of the day, he applied force of a sexual nature without my consent.

When I got home, I told Mom what had happened.  She was LIVID - I honestly don't know how I convinced her not to call the police.  (Why?  Because in my mind, it wasn't "that" big of a deal: it's not like he "hurt" me or anything... )  She informed me in no uncertain terms that I'd be telling the Human Resources Manager the following day.  

The next day, I went in early and asked to speak privately to both the store manager and the HROM.  I explained what had happened and got... nothing.  They hardly reacted at all.  The HROM asked me to write out an account of what had happened and to be "discreet" about the incident: they'd handle it.  I did as asked, making sure to give a copy to Mom "just in case" (in case of what, I don't know, but that's where my head went).

Things went downhill after that.  I found out that I was the THIRD woman he'd spoken to/touched inappropriately (fourth, if you count the naive 16-year old he sweet talked, knocked up, then tried to force to terminate the pregnancy).  The Friday after it happened, I was in the store doing some shopping (I was trying to find a bra, for the sake of context) and was walking towards the fitting rooms when I saw him coming towards me down the aisle.  I diverted to the next aisle over because I didn't want him to see what I had in my hands.  He figured out what I was doing and was able to block the end of the aisle as I got to it.  He stood there, smirking at me, as I asked him to please move.  When he didn't move, I repeated myself louder.  When he STILL didn't move, I YELLED at him to get the fuck out of my way and shoved him as hard as I could.  As I RAN for the fitting rooms, he started yelling after me about how he just wanted to talk and I was blowing this out of proportion.  The last thing he said as I disappeared into one of the cubicles?  I'd be sorry for this.

Luckily for me, I had a witness.  The girl who was working the fitting rooms that night came into the women's side, knocked on the door, and asked if I was okay.  I told her what had happened leading up to this; she told me she'd tell the store manager what she'd seen and heard.

That night, I was supposed to go out with my friends.  I really didn't feel up to it, but I went anyhow because I just wanted to have a good time.  We went to the local bar (small town = one bar) where, unfortunately, Eric was with his buddies.  He kept walking past with a menacing look on his face, getting closer and closer until the third time he damn near bumped into me.  When the group I was with asked what was going on, I told them.  When a nice girl tells a bunch of girlfriends, they're suitably horrified and offer comfort; when a nice girl tells a bunch of male friends, they get pissed and storm off to teach the slime ball a lesson.  It got to the point that one of Eric's buddies cornered me and a girlfriend coming out of the washroom, begging me to "call off" my friends before they killed Eric (he was a tiny, short little puke: my four male friends weren't).  I told him that if he could control Eric and keep him away from me, I'd do my best, but I really had no control over what the guys did. 

I went into the store the next day - my day off - to tell the HROM what had happened, both in the store while he was working, and at the bar.  I was pissed off that this was now spilling into my private life AWAY from my job, and frankly rather scared.  He was "spoken to," but that consisted of a "Don't do that again!" and a slap on the wrist.  He walked around even cockier after that.  (Mom happened to be in the store not long after this and, after watching him smirk at me as he walked past, had to be physically restrained to prevent her from going after him.)

Not long after that, the store manager was transferred.  The new manager was barely out of high school and more interested in being pals with the male staff than acting like a manager.  When I filled him in on what had happened, I basically got a "Just calm down" response because him and Eric now partied together on weekends.  Eric was so despicably cocky that I refused to work with him: I'd work the same shifts, but if he needed ANYTHING by way of supervisor assistance, it wasn't going to be me.

Eventually he was forced to quit (he was "playing" loss prevention office when he should have been in Home Entertainment, chased a customer out to his vehicle, harassing him the whole way when the customer had nothing on him, and ended up getting bit in the ass (yes, literally) when the customer opened his door and unleashed his dog on Eric.  The customer demanded Eric be fired, or he'd sue.  Eric was given the chance to quit first, so he did.), but some how ended up getting a job as mall security, so he was in the store all the time and cockier than ever, since MY "protection" (read: management) had no control over him anymore.  Our LPO told another employee that he brought Eric into the store and walked him past me on purpose because he thought my (visceral) reaction was "funny."  When this employee told me this piece of information, I stormed into the HROM's office and told her that if she didn't put a stop to it, I was walking out right then and there.  She spoke to the LPO and told him that Eric was NOT to come into the store unless LPO needed the assistance with an apprehension.

Eventually he moved to another mall, then to another town after he caused a near-riot when half the female staff found out Mr. Casanova was sleeping with ALL of them.  I have no idea where he is now.

To this day, thinking of him makes my skin crawl.  I shudder to think of what could have happened had he caught me alone at/outside the bar that night.  I kick myself for NOT calling the police: I should have.  For YEARS I'd start to hyperventilate when he came around: my hands would shake, my heart would pound, and I'd have to fight back tears with all I had.  

I don't really know why, but for some reason, this incident hit me far harder than the entire 18 months with Matt.  I think maybe it's because this felt more violating because I wasn't a willing participant like I was in that train wreck of a relationship: I had no control over the situation and was completely at the mercy of this twisted little man.  It *still* makes me sick to my stomach when I think of it, and it's been over ten years since it happened.  I hate him for putting that fear in me, for making me afraid.