COMMENTARY: Beware of the office sex police
The wall was shaking. Two co-workers of mine, a man and a woman, had gone into his office and closed the door, which was about 6 feet from my desk. A few moments later, the sheet rock thumped and shuddered, suggesting vigorous activity on the other side. I know what you’re thinking — and yes, they were.
Their next closed-door session was different. The wall shook again, this time from the crash and smash of heartbreak. Something shattered — a framed picture of his wife? Her shouts became sobs. It was sad and embarrassing. I could have ducked out for lunch, but it was also lurid and fascinating, so I stayed.
Even before this stormy episode, most of us knew about their affair. We gossiped, but we also shrugged it off. It was their business, nobody else’s, and the consequences would be theirs to bear.
That was so long ago. I wonder how this episode would play out today. Would the married man be cast as a sexual tormentor? Would the company owe damages to the woman? Would I be blamed for sitting by silently instead of reporting what I knew?
Today, silence might not be an option. Some companies are implementing a “see something, say something” policy. NBC, whose former top star was booted for sexual misconduct, has just issued a requirement for employees to report signs of simmering sexual activity, even consensual relationships.
Note to management considering such policies: Be careful what you wish for. I’m holding a can of worms, and you’re planning to toss me a can opener?
I’m more savvy than I used to be. I have more at stake. I’m in cutthroat competition with some of these people. Not that I’d allow professional rivalry to color my account of the many — yes, quite numerous — displays of sexuality I’ve witnessed at work.
Where should I start? I worked once with an ambitious former Miss America contestant who’d have driven her spike heel through my eyeball to get me out of the way. I didn’t feel threatened, but she was very upsetting to some of the other women in the office, the way she stomped around in stilettos and short skirts that climbed up her backside when she reached for the shelves above her desk. Now I realize that someone should always speak up for those women who haven’t found the courage to express their own discomfort.
Once, during a staff meeting, the beauty queen slipped off her shoes, and her toes nudged the leg of the guy sitting next to her. He was unable to concentrate on the important business of the moment, which, I think, could explain an ensuing dip in his job performance.
If I had to point out a walking, talking liability, it would be the man who consistently failed to give me credit for his big wins — all of which arose from my ideas.
He was always first to welcome new female hires with a dose of workplace wisdom and an invitation to lunch at a cute little spot around the corner. Everyone bonds quickly with someone who helps them feel at home. Hashtag me too. I was newly divorced when I arrived, lonely, and afraid nobody would ever want me again.
Oh, and if you want to know who will truly excel in the role of sex police, look to your emotionally stunted staffers. What a ticket to empowerment!
I briefly shared an office with a woman who viewed success as a zero-sum game. Anyone else’s shining moment was a personal affront to her, prompting curses, crying or drawer slamming. She had access to a lot of information about everyone, and significant influence with the boss, with whom she had long, frequent closed-door meetings.
But don’t worry about me. I have very solid judgment, and I’ll keep an eye on everyone. By the way, did you notice the new guy has a tan line on his wedding ring finger? This could spell trouble. ###
Samantha Stone is a Nevada radio personality and the executive producer of The CyberJungle, a podcast covering digital crime and data security.
