Arse-grabbing. And what to do about it.

This is going to be a brief one. How to deal with the arse-grab. Or not, depending on the kind of person you are.

I was at work today, doing my usual thing, which was standing in the corner making sure people find the things they need, so that we can move to a different corner sharp-ish. I had completely zoned out of the moment, partly because I had woken up late and between shower, deo and mascara, coffee did not happen. The only way to explain how serious this can be, is the fact that the last time I left the house without coffee and a stranger in the office brought me a mug, I proposed to him (he gratefully declined). This excuse will become pertinent shortly...

I was with varying levels of bosses, and the Biggest Gun was there too, so everybody (but me) was on their A game. I had started seeing muffins descending from the heavens dressed as angels saying in a Marie-Antoinette-esque voice, ‘Let them eat cake’ ‘Qu’ils mangent de la brioche’... ‘un cafe, s’il te plait’ when a bit of commotion signalled it was time to move on. I reached forward to grab the papers I had rested in front of me, and felt my hand grab something rather soft and doughy. Because I was sleepy, and had been thinking about brioche and perhaps, chapati with jam, I carried on with my inquisitive micro-massage for another millisecond or two before the thing quickly disappeared from my hand. I was jolted back to reality by a rather awkward ‘uuuurgh’...and immediately said ‘Oh sorry’ without total clarity on what had transpired. Shapes began to materialise in front of me and only then did I realise that it was Big Gun standing in front of me, and given he was just a little under 6 feet tall and bending forward to write on the table in front of me, it could only have been his rather firm derriere I had been inspecting with my finger tips. (*He does have a seriously nice bottom though*)

My immediate reaction was to laugh, but rather inconveniently, tears welled up in my eyes so I dared not make a sound. I had just groped my boss. As in, I properly copped a feel. Thank goodness he wasn’t facing me, because...

He looked at me, I looked at my feet, and the three other witnesses to my incident of possible harassment looked in various compass directions. Was there any way to redeem this, I wondered to myself. I looked up slowly and said ‘Coffee, didn’t realise you had moved. Must be sleepy...’, gathered my papers and walked away. I didn’t dare wash my hands in full view because that would imply too many things wrong, so I snuck off to the bathroom, silently screamed and jumped around about, cried for 20 seconds, washed and disinfected my hands and then disappeared off and bought myself the biggest piece of chocolate fudge cake my little hands could carry.

And that there, is how I dealt with my arse grab. I would however advise that you avoid doing it altogether.

Ps. I do realise sexual harrassment is a serious workplace vice, but as the current perpetrator in this incident, I can offer little advice. Take care of your assets though, and maintain an FFP (five foot perimeter) to avoid all confusion.