I wore a red dress to work today. It has a zipper at either side of my chest that can unzip and reveal a thin strip of skin. A coworker, without warning, tried pulling at the zipper and when it wouldn’t zip, instead revealed a good portion of my collarbone and shoulder as well as my bra strap. An hour later, the same coworker came up and told me to not wear clothes with zippers because he’ll go right ahead and unzip them. I shot back that unzipping me without my permission is sexual harassment. Apparently a manager heard and berated my coworker. At the end of my shift, my coworker told me that my little comment got him in trouble and that he no longer feels comfortable saying anything to me other than “hello” and “goodbye.”
I am supposed to feel guilty for pointing out that he can’t lay his fucking hands on me.
So I wore the infamous dress at work yesterday and ANOTHER MALE COWORKER DECIDED TO PULL AT ONE OF MY FUCKING ZIPPERS. We were surrounded by other (also male) coworkers (that did nothing) and I swatted his hand away while promptly informing him that he didn’t have permission to touch me.
He then asked, since he knows I cosplay, if it would be any different if I wore a revealing costume. I gave him a dirty look and told him that no matter what *I* decide to wear, no one is allowed “to lay a finger on me unless they want my foot up their ass.”
Being that I’m quite professional at work, they were all surprised by my language and the ferocity with which I spat my promise.
you fucking go girl
You’re awesome, I hope I can have someday the same brave that you have.
I had to do this once with Privateer II: The Darkening. It gained a bit when he said “I bet you didn’t play it through, I bet somebody just told you how…” and I was able to smile gently and say “God, possibly, since I wrote the game.” And plainly the Deity was with me that day, as I happened to be carrying docs from my UK agent (who’d done the deal) that showed not only that I was the writer, but the five-figure sum I had been paid. …It was a happy day for me. Not so much for him. I’d never had a referent for the word “slink” for a full grown male before. As in “slink away in utter dejection.” I smiled for at least three days without stopping. And am smiling now… I had completely forgotten about this.
Reblogging because “I beat the game” is fantastic, but “I wrote the damn thing” is even better.