Money Can't Buy My Love

All my life, my mother warned me to expect anti-semitism.  I have never directly encountered any.

When I got married to a brown man, (my first husband), my family threatened that we would run up against racism.  We never did.

I have been super lucky, and feel very privileged to be living in Toronto, where the various -isms are rarer than elsewhere.  However, I have encountered a surprising amount of sexism in the past few months, and it's making me furious.

What changed in my recent past?  I took a step into the realm of Big, Bad Business, which is full of cranky, rich, older men.  These men assume that any young, appealing female is there to do their bidding without asking too many questions.  I would truly like to slap them all.

The Business Men are all lascivious to some degree.  I do not see them greeting each other European-style, with a kiss on each cheek, but that's always how they greet me.  Okay, I can live with that.  But there's one accountant, a rat who always reminds anyone listening that he owns a block of real estate in downtown Toronto, who takes it too far.  From the minute he was introduced to me, he hit on me unrelentingly, in front of my step-dad, and even in front of my husband.  I tried to be a good sport about it.  I mean, it's annoying, but whatever.  He can talk until he's blue in the face but he's not going to get anywhere with me.

I had just sat through a meeting with him, and, in an attempt to establish a friendly rapport, made some joke to him about psychopaths.  He took this opportunity to wrap both his hands around my neck and pretend to strangle me.  I was so startled by this that I didn't make much of a response.  I just kind of made a face and stepped away.  He followed me, put one hand on the back of my neck, and proceeded to stroke my hair in the creepiest way you can imagine.  Then he offered me a ride home.  Yeah, right.  That'll be the day.  I escaped a.s.a.p. and haven't seen him since.  The less I have to do with him, the better.

Then there's the lawyer who was rude to me because I didn't say "Yes sir, yes sir, three bags full sir," when he started giving orders to me as if I were his administrative assistant.  You can bet that he wouldn't have talked to a man of my age and position in the same way.  I gently hinted that it would be more appropriate for him to assign the task to his secretary, but he just got angry with me. I did what he wanted, fuming the whole time, because I didn't want to start a war with him, but I asked my step-dad to remind him that I'm not a secretary.  I only help my step-dad in that capacity on occasion because he's my dad, and because he asks me nicely.  I manage a department of 14 people; I have higher priorities than typing someone's memos and fetching tea, especially when the person who's asking doesn't say please or thank you.

(That all being said, I always say please and thank you to my own subordinates.  There's nothing about secretaries that should allow anyone to feel welcome to abuse them.)

I shouldn't have to deal with these losers much from now on.  I have declined to participate any further in the Big Bad Business scheme that my step-dad has been wrapped up in.  Partly it's because BBB is not my style, and partly it's because the sexism in those circles is so sickening.  I guess it's two facets of the same problem: nasty people.  I have no problem with a little innocent flirtation for fun, but when I feel like I've been time-warped onto the set of Mad Men, well, that's taking it too far.