When I was a kid, if I belted one of my cousins in the mouth while arguing over a sled and knocked him face first into a snow bank, my mother used to apply one piece of wisdom.
“How would you like it if somebody did that to you?” she’d say, shortly before clipping me sharply over the left ear. She was right-handed, so her shots always landed on my left ear.
With a plague of sexual harassment upon the land, Ma’s sentiments are worth absorbing.
So, if you’re one of those dimwits who hollers about how “political correctness” has stripped you of the right to grope that sexy Marlene down in accounting, listen up. I’m a guy, too, so I know just how to explain it to you. And I promise I won’t hit you.
If you’re a straight guy, and we’re the ones causing most of the trouble, try to imagine how you’d feel if one of your straight male co-workers did to you what you do to women.
Let’s try a couple of exercises.
You walk into your office one morning and Tony, the guy at the next desk, takes a long look at you and says, “Hey, your ass looks great in those khakis.”
Let’s keep going because that’s the thing about sexual harassment; it keeps going.
After a long hard morning driving a truck, you return to the warehouse and head to the break room for a nice cup of coffee.
As you wait for the Keurig to brew your coffee, co-worker Lyle walks up behind you, puts his arms around your waist and starts rubbing up against you.
“You’re killing me in those work boots,” he growls, kissing your neck.
Tom calls you into his office to talk about the new computer system, and how it will do a much better job of tracking inventory and sales. Once you’re in his office, he locks the door and shoves his hand down your pants.
You complain to Tom’s boss, Craig.
“C’mon,” Craig says. “You’re not wearing an undershirt, are you? I can see your Marine Corps tattoo right through your dress shirt. How much can a guy take?”
Now, if you’re a guy’s guy, a bro, one of the boys at the bar, you are not going to react well to any of those situations, are you?
So, from now on, whenever you are tempted to initiate some sexual hoo-ha with a woman, ask yourself, “Would I be cool if Mikey the janitor did this to me?”
More than likely, you will find that you do not want Mikey the janitor calling you “sweet thang.”
Keep this handy little set of exercises in mind, and you’ll be fine, bro.
And it’s not like I don’t know how crazy some of these women can make you. I used to work with this hot little blonde. She was driving me crazy. I mean, I couldn’t keep my eyes off her. She knew it, too, if you know what mean.
You know what I did?
I married her.