Banning Sex in the Workplace
Before we discuss office workers having sex in closets, stairwells, inside bathroom stalls, on top of copier machines (with the obligatory butt Xerox), under the boss's desk, and other workplace locales let me tell you of a terrible, tragic and regrettable instance of my life.
I was 17 years old, still in High School, when my friend Bloom [real name] told me he was invited to a party at Bloomfield College in Bloomfield New Jersey and would I like to go. Wow, a party with mature, sexy, uninhibited, bust-blooming college girls I always heard about, sure I wanted to bloomin' go. [I know, too many blooms in this paragraph]
Now I have to tell you, that when I was 17 I was lucky if I looked even 14 years old (Here's a photo of me at 19); so I was getting some stares from many at the party wondering what a youngster like me was doing there. I asked a few girls to dance, but all of them turned me down, too embarrassing for them, I suppose, but I was a plucky lad, and I intended to ask every single female there until I found someone to dance with.
Then I saw Angel.
Not the celestial kind, although she was all that. Angel was 23 years old and one of the three most beautiful women I have ever met in my entire life (for the other two see this post) although at that time she was number one. It happens that she was not a college student at all but merely invited to the party because she was a knockout. Perhaps that is why she had no problem dancing with me, she had no peers to dissuade her from socializing with someone with my too-youthful appearance. It wasn't until later in life that I realized she was interested in me precisely because I looked so young. My experience with Angel gave me a positive view of female sexual predators where I deny that they are predators at all. How can the relationship be predatory when it is mutually desired?
She must have noticed my hormones ejecting gallons of sex-chemicals into the air because when the music stopped she didn't let go. She looked at me as if deciding whether to steal some cookies from a kitchen shelf. Then she asked, no, she just insisted, "Let's go to your car."
I don't remember how we got out of the party, got our coats, said goodbye to Bloom, or any of that, my next memory is BOOM! we are sitting in the back seat of my car. It happened just like a quick cut in a movie scene. What happened next makes me shudder with regret to this day.
We're kissing like lovers separated during 5 years of war when she begins unraveling my clothes. She gets to my zipper... Ooops, I forgot to warn those of my readers who are rather bashful about sex not to read any further. For those of you not so bashful: Back to the unzipping. ... just when she gets ready to do some unlawful acts on the business end of my male reproductive organ, I get this really stupid, idiotic, moronic thought in my head and it slips out of my lips: "Wouldn't this be better if we did it at my house?"
Since until this point in my life I was never seduced before, I did not know how to act properly when a woman is foisting her attention on you. Angel stopped cold, removed her iron grip from my private parts and said, matter-of-factly, calmly, without emotion: "let's go back to the party." I tried to back-pedal saying we could just continue here in the back seat, but the moment was lost, the fire was put out, the genie was let out of the bottle, I slipped through her fingers, the cat was let out the bag, Elvis left the building, it was all over but the shouting.
We went back to the party and she returned to her seat as if we never met at all. And no she didn't want to dance again.
So what does this have to do with sex in the workplace? I want to warn my readers not to take the advice of this writer:
National Summary,
Your Office or Mine?
Banning Sex in the WorkplaceIt boggles the mind about what sometimes goes on in offices, closets, stairways, parking garages and parking lots, and even inside bathroom stalls at the workplace during and after business hours. And it is also amazing about the incredible risk that such people are willing to take if their trysts are ever discovered. Unless you are Bill Clinton, more than likely you are probably going to get fired.
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Certain experts contend that many trysts are the result of peculiar circumstances although the obvious reason is often immaturity and recklessness. These individuals can do it in the privacy of their own home without the risk getting fired or suffering from any other negative consequences (although they miss out on the adolescent thrill).
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Why can't people just get a motel?
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However, the best suggestion is for people to behave like adults and take their romance somewhere else.
Take the romance somewhere else? No! No! No!
You can always get another job. You can always move to another town. You can always change your name. You can never, ever get back a lost moment that you may regret for the rest of your life.
- Viola Spolin"Through spontaneity we are re-formed into ourselves. It creates an explosion that for the moment frees us from handed-down frames of reference, memory choked with old facts and information and undigested theories and techniques of other people's findings. Spontaneity is the moment of personal freedom when we are faced with reality, and see it, explore it and act accordingly. In this reality the bits and pieces of ourselves function as an organic whole. It is the time of discovery, of experiencing, of creative expression."
Trackposted to The Crazy Rants of Samantha Burns, Adam's Blog, Right Truth, Celebrity Smack, The Amboy Times, Big Dog's Weblog, Cao's Blog, Leaning Straight Up, and Gulf Coast Hurricane Tracker, thanks to Linkfest Haven Deluxe.
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