Sexual Harassment – What Do You Do?

Hunters are selfish. They act through instinct and are often blind to standards of conduct. Hunters prey on the weak. They also prey on the ones that are out in the open, easy to see, appealing – standing still. The hungrier the hunter is – the more desperate he or she is – and sometimes even weaker than we know.

Lawyers will tell you that the abuse of an employer or supervisor, although unacceptable, is difficult to prosecute. And if you’re feeling vulnerable about your job, you’re in a difficult situation if you are the subject of unwanted, relentless harassment.

If you are a woman, then you might do something a friend of mine did. She asked one of our male friends – a big, hulking, brute – kinda’ good looking – but definitely intimidating to other men – to pick her up at work one day at the end of the day. She organized it so that she would have the “harasser” engaged in a conversation near the end of the day just when “boyfriend” arrived.

The “BF” was coached to eye the harasser intensely upon arrival, so that the harasser might sense that he knew something. The BF’s plan was to start talking to him, keeping the subject quite general. Somewhere in the conversation, he was to fit in the following dialogue: “Gosh, I’m so crazy about (girlfriend’s name) – another guy looks at her and I just go crazy – you know. It really pisses me off. Don’t you just hate that shit? You got a girlfriend, right? You know what I’m talking about.”

BF already was informed that the harasser was divorced. The harasser never bothered the lady again. The reality is that harassers are usually cowards. It’s easy to scare them. And more often than not, they are easily intimidated by other men.

Other tricks include – play the same scene out and have a friend (either woman or man) play the part of a lawyer friend stopping in to pick you up for lunch or dinner. The same person could play the part of a cop or detective.

Any role that is intimidating can work – as long as the actor is willing and reasonably good at it. If you don’t know someone, hire an actor. There are plenty out there that will play a part for a reasonable fee.

But the reality is that if the company does not have an iron clad harassment policy and plan, then you either leave the company, or learn how to turn the hunter into the hunted.

 

The Difference Between Men and Women

Men are primarily hunters and scavengers. We take our spears, and we assume that we are the only ones who know how to use one, and go out in search of the Wooly Mammoth. Then, after a long time in the forest, return to the village (no Mammoth usually) to grab a hunk of bread, and then join the elders around the fire perpetuating hunting stories that, for the most part, probably never happened.

We are natural story tellers. But we must be doing something when we relate to others. Arms and legs must flail in defiance of gravity as we promote our unique view of the world.

Ever notice how, at a party, men gather at the pool table waving beers and cue sticks while telling inflated stories that incite grunts of laughter? Ever notice how women sit in a tidy crescent around the coffee table waving hands and stir sticks telling cat stories that incite peels of laughter.

Oh yes. The question. Maybe change the question. It’s waaaay too feminine. You must direct the man firmly, but gently, to do specific things. The trick is to pick those things that he will like in spite of his best efforts to make faces and generally communicate his unwillingness to cooperate.

Boys like to play. The first tasks you assign should involve play. “Honey, please play with little Jo or Joette for 20 minutes while I (pick something he’d hate to do) empty the hamper.”

Next time, you can ask him to a) play with Jo, and then b) empty the hamper while you start the wash. The list can get longer, but this is not really the point.

It’s about setting the context to teach a Neanderthal new tricks. The opportunity is there to make him a hero in his own mind. As he plays with little Jo, you find the right moment to come into the room with a camera and take a picture. “Oh honey, I couldn’t resist. You are such a Father. “

This is, albeit, a very simple example of manipulation. But ladies – it’s in your genes and your jeans. Men must be manipulated through single-minded tasks. Don’t paint the global parenting picture for them. Use your brain to get them to DO things with the little one, things they will probably excel at.

And when they do something that makes them feel good, they tend to be more easily involved in many other facets of family life. Perhaps it is better to assume a lower expectation of Fathers in some respects. They love their kids of course. But men do not respond well to nagging. We are task oriented. You manage and we do.

Reward us when we do. Thriow him a compliment. Give him a beer.
Of course this is where most women will say, “Forget it. I shouldn’t have to do anything.” Crap! It’s a two-way street, lady!If you want HIM to do something, then YOU have to do something.
And the pain is minimal. A little feminine manipulation is all it takes. (I thought women liked that kind of thing, anyway.)

Women have this nasty habit – remember I’m a man so let me finish – of expecting us to -well – just – KNOW what we’re supposed to do. We don’t! Please, get the concept. We sense, we avoid, we forget AND we just don’t know – you know?

However, we can be taught.

But puh-lease – don’t ever ever ever EVER say – “Honey, now don’t get defensive, but I really need you to support me with our child.”

We’ll get defensive and we won’t really support you all that well because now we feel guilty. Nothing worse than a guilty Neanderthal.

I don’t need as much coaching anymore. I even dry and brush my daughter’s hair at night. And you know something? She makes me feel like a hero.

 

Love and Lust

You see the other person with their clothes on, too, and it’s a beautiful thing. That’s love.

You fart – and somehow it’s cute. That’s love.

She’s sitting, watching Seinfeld, and you notice her blouse is open slightly.   You see a hint of her breast. Suddenly you just want to do her right there and then.  It’s lust.

She hugs you hard after and buries herself in your chest. You feel warm inside. That’s love.

You watch a younger woman bend over in the mall and you realize she’s wearing a thong. For the next 10 seconds everything you had under control digresses to the lowest common denominator. That’s lust.

Your lady asks you what you’re looking at. You say, “I’m thinking about new underwear.” She says she’ll help you find some.  You feel really guilty.  That’s love.

You’re lady bends over and you notice SHE’s wearing a thong.  Remember Seinfeld?  Gotta love that yada yada – lust – yada yada – love. You forgot the young woman. Somehow, the guilt evaporates, too.

You watch your man become one with his dinner and as Neanderthal as he looks, you can’t help but see the little boy.  That’s love.

He phones you unexpectedly for lunch. At the coffee shop, he walks in, the sunlight hitting him in all the right places.  Your panties are wet.  That’s lust.

You watch him drive away to go back to work and wait til he’s gone before you head back to your own work.  That’s love.

You remember lust and love in your life as you read this.  It’s all about life.
Lust and love – kind of like an edgy coffee and a sweet cream.

 

Real Men Cry

If we turn back the clock a few eras, we find ‘man’, the task-oriented part of the human equation, gathering up his spear, grunting to his colleagues, and reluctantly heading out to the bush to bring down a much-needed wooly mammoth. Meanwhile, inside the commune, women are managing the community and the relationships within, nurturing the young, organizing the resources, and bearing children.

Later, on the same prehistoric day, the group of hunters take squatting positions in groups of two, hiding among the ragged bushes. In one pairing, a young hunter looks up at an elder – perhaps no more than 15 years his senior – and utters a quiet, breathy grunt. The senior recognizes an expression of fear. The senior grunts back. It is a similar grunt, but more assertive. It implies that he is scared, too, but it is also a command to stand fast.

An hour later, a mammoth lumbers in at a speed that defies logic. How can such a large thing be so graceful? It stops dead in its track, its hoofs dispersing the dry dust that has collected during the drought. It smells fear – human fear.

It bellows. The young hunter clutches his spear. So does the elder. Without moving or turning his head, the elder makes a few clicking sounds, like that of small animal. He clicks a short number of times and then stops.

The silence is deafening. A few moments later, he clicks again; fewer clicks this time. The elder slowly turns in the direction of the mammoth and rises to a semi-crouched position, perched to move. He looks at the young hunter and glares. The young warrior turns to face the mammoth and assumes the same posture.

The elder utters three short clicks. It is a call to action.

The dusty warriors leap from the dry, spindly bushes, shattering the silence with their screams and growls and rush the mammoth. The spears are thrown. One penetrates one side of the mammoth’s head.

The beast reels, but doesn’t come down. The elder and the youth work side by side with the others and keep closing in on the aggravated mammoth. Suddenly, the mammoth lurches forward in the direction of the youth. The huge, swinging trunk hits the youth, caught unprepared, and sends him flying several yards. The mammoth stops, turns, and charges after the injured youth.

Despite his pain, the terrified youth lifts himself up to face the mammoth. From somewhere deep, he summons the strength to get fully to his feet, just in time to side step the charging animal. He then leaps up and manages to get his hands on the spear embedded in the side of the giant’s head. The mammoth flings his head to and throe, but the youth hangs on. Finally, the momentum of the mammoth’s desperate movements flings the young man into the air.

The group watches him fly in an arc of death. His body slams into a tree and falls to the ground, limp and lifeless. The mammoth runs off. The hunters do not give chase, because they know that, sooner or later, the beast will die. They will follow his tracks to find him – perhaps a day’s journey away. What the scavengers will not have already harvested will become their prize.

In the dusty aftermath, the hunters gather around the body of the young hunter. The elder picks him up, scowls at the group and grunts. The grunts keep falling from his lips and transform into a scream – a guttural anthem of anguish and triumph. Holding the body, he turns in the direction of the mammoth’s escaping path and suddenly stops screaming.

There is a tear creeping over his leathered face as he looks at his fellow man. Although he has sired many children, he knows this one particularly well, because he was the first one. He lays the body down in the open space, where it will be consumed by scavengers. The tear is consumed by the dust on his face. He grunts at the group and begins to walk down the path in search of the beast that will bring food and warmth to his tribe. He will have more children.

Real men feel pain. Real men do not question their pain. Real men cry.

Dating Younger Men

Men are not from Mars and women are not from Venus. Women are from Earth and men are just dirt. What does this have to do with dating younger men?

My son, a 19 year old with a chiseled face, highly creative and self motivated – your basic chick magnet – invited me (his 52 year old Father) out to a bar to participate in a hot-wing eating contest sponsored by a local radio station. It was there he met another competitor – your basic rocket – a woman 10 years older than him who took quite a shining to the lad.

Weeks later, we met her again at the last event in the promotion. During those weeks in between, my son and I discussed the subject of dating older women. His comments were spiced with terms and phrases that revealed the context of his youthful thinking: weird, what if, maturity, inexperience, what will her friends think, short term, getting dumped, boy toy – etcetera and ad nauseum.

Inevitably, he asked me what I think. As I ran my fingers through my ever-graying hair in an attempt to pull my shrivelled forehead back 30 years, I sucked in a big breath and said, upon heavy exhale, “No matter how old you are, if you fall in love, you’re doomed if you try to figure it out – to figure ‘her’ out.”

I once fell head over heels for an older woman. We never advanced far enough to have a relationship, but, thinking back, I wish I had. To think of all the passion, confusion and pain I missed.

My son has the opportunity to find out what a 29 year old woman wants or, at least, what the concept looks like. Not that she would serve as the definitive example for the rest of that side of the species, but why shouldn’t a young man – a younger man – seize a unique opportunity to get emotionally mangled at a time in his life when he doesn’t really understand women at all.

The reality of it is that, 33 years later (when he’ll be my age), he will probably reach the same conclusion I reached: I still don’t understand what a woman wants – really. I told him that, thinking I could give him a head start on the process.

So, what is the benefit of having a relationship with a younger man, you ask? The benefit is having a relationship with an older woman. If he can put his experience and mine together as book ends, the books in between will actually stand up on the shelf. Instead of questing to understand women, he now has the opportunity to engage in relationships without some mythical goal in mind. Rather, he can experience each relationship and cherish it as a story of wonder – a book to be kept forever.

Let’s face it. Hearts will always be broken. Lust and love will ebb and flow regardless of the age of the participants. We spend too much time questing for understanding of things left better misunderstood.

The other benefit is that we don’t end up living life within questions. For the younger man and the older woman, paradise is in the moment. If the moment becomes a lifetime -they should write a book called, “The Benefits of Dating Younger Men.”

That’s the dirt from this old man. I’ll let the older ladies fill out the other half of the equation. Fair enough?