Corporate Grease

I was woken up by the shrill trilling of the phone last night. It was Akshara. I looked across the room to the blue digits of the clock on the wall, it was 4 AM. 'What time is it there? Did I wake you up?' she asks hurriedly. I manage a 'no' , knowing she wouldn't call unless it was important - 'It's ok' I mumble, 'Tell me, what's up' .

'He just won't take the hint!! And I'm so fed up, what do i do? ' , she cried, the irritation bordering on distress evident in the strained higher pitch. 'You won't believe what he did this morning, he put me in such a spot, and there is absolutely nothing I can do about it except to just keep gently but firmly rebuffing him.' My protective 'you shouldn't have to take this kinda crap' feelings aside, I knew she was right. So far, there was nothing she could do except coldly ignore him. So, I nodded, sighed and just listened as she filled me in on the morning's incident.

She had met him at work, at a job she began not two months ago. It was the perfect job. Everything she was looking for. A fresh start. It was almost providential, the way it had materialized. They had been really impressed and made it clear that they wanted her on board almost immediately. I had been so proud. She'd been brave and ridden out some storms and definitely deserved a break. So when she finally did start working there I couldn't have been happier for her. Everything was taking an up-swing. Until this.

In our post-first-day dissection she jokingly remarked, ' There's something greasy about him and I'm not referring to the tub of gel he works into his hair every morning' . We just laughed girlishly, not really thinking too much about it then. But It wasn't very long before she mentioned him again. He had begun dropping by her desk a couple of times a day with absolutely no business to discuss, just 'chatting her up' . Something about what should have been perceived as just a friendly gesture felt off. As she put it , 'greasy guy is just a little too nice'. I suggested rather flippantly at the time that perhaps she was reading too much into it. As it so happened she wasn't.

Things at her old office were very different. The atmosphere was much more open and the manner amongst hierarchy was one of familiarity. But that was a big MNC in Mumbai. Here, somehow, in madras, it doesn't sit right. Even though everybody in her office is quite young, there is something about the culture of the city that makes informality beyond using first names seem too forced. So when she first told me about greasy guy, I jumped to the conclusion that this was all it was - a difference of opinion about office formality.

It is a well-known but small establishment, where she works, the kind of place where you cannot afford to dislike anyone or be disliked, because you're thrown in together with pretty much everybody in the course of work - It is what one may call a 'close-knit corporate team' - a bit of a euphemism that is often used to describe an organisation that is understaffed and overworked. Be that as it may, as in the normal course of things, she was introduced to him. He is one of her superiors. Not someone she is directly accountable to. But definitely one of the bosses.

He is divorced, he confesses to her among many other things, at what he tells her is a team lunch. He shows no sign of embarrassment when, as she asks to wait to order, he tells her that unfortunately no one else can make it. Brazenly, laughing, he adds that he is glad they can't, almost daring her to call his outrageous bluff, perhaps even leave. She fumes silently, not wanting to antagonize a superior at her new job, pretending to be interested, through a meal where he proceeds to talk solely about himself. That afternoon as she recounts it to me in a hurried chat session, she vows she will avoid him at all costs and that will hopefully be that. He calls her four times that sunday.

Later that week he presses her repeatedly to go out with him. Have a drink, take a long drive, go for a movie. She tells him over and over again, that she can't. Firmly, no - concocting an array of excuses all clearly untrue, hoping he will take the hint. He doesn't. We wonder why he has no pride, why he won't just stop asking after such repeated rejection? Why doesn't he see that being her boss and putting her in such a position amounts to harrassment. Perhaps he does. And he likes it.

She doesn't laugh easily at work anymore - banter with colleagues is inhibited - he seems to somehow always surface. He lurks, greasy guy does. Amidst the others, he throws her knowing looks, like they are close friends forced to formality. He winks at her and smiles, and others see this, but not her cold looks. She is furious, afraid her colleagues will perceive something that is not. So, she works harder than ever these days. barely looking up, filling every moment in activity, skipping lunch with colleagues so she doesn't have to see him. He still calls her unnecessarily. She doesn't pick up.

Coming from a big corporate environment, inundated with feedback forms and a mechanism in place, however (in)effective, to protect from this, she is unsure of what to do presently. She is afraid that it will come down to her word against his and he will smarmily deny it. Except for the 11.45 PM telephone calls, I remind her, there is proof of that. That there haven't been any remarks or conduct of a sexual nature is something she clings to. She thinks (or hopes) he's just another one of those boorish men who simply won't take no for an answer but is intrinsically harmless. I think staying quiet and hoping for the best is taking a biggish risk.

Yesterday, he informs her of the new little mini-project they must work on together, just the two of them , he says with a big smile. He's arranged it with her boss and everything. It turns out to be legitimate, even if her contribution is unnecessary. Obviously she can't refuse. It is work. Nevermind that now she is forced to spend much more time alone with him, in a conference room, possibly having to fend off more direct advances. I tell her, that the next time he asks her about anything outside of work or tries to contact her after hours, she must be polite but firm in telling him that she doesn't appreciate this kind of behaviour and finds it inappropriate. In the meanwhile that she should talk to the other women at work, find out if greasy guy has made a pass at anyone else in the pass. Or at worst she must talk to her boss. Another friend suggests she lie and tell him that she is engaged. It's a small office, I don't think she can sustain the lie. Besides, I suspect that it won't faze him. It is not love or any genuine feeling that drives this man, neither does a fear of any perceived impropriety. He's 17 years older than she is. And he can't take no for an answer. You'd think he'd have some sense, the old, greasy fuck. Is it some form of sadism, to watch her squirm silently, to feel power over her ? Is it a game?

I do not want to say it to her, because I don't want her to think it's her fault, it isn't. His attentions were rebuffed as soon as they were recognized. But I know how people can be. Her open, friendly girlishness is attractive - as is her ready laugh and smiley eyes. Maybe he takes this as invitation. I know that many men are narcissistic enough to think it is all aimed at them. Maybe it is that she is open about enjoying a drink that he has misinterpreted - the old 'women who drink are women who are loose' and therefore fair game. Something I've heard all too often for me not to make the association. Maybe it is that she is 'modern' in a city that is still mind-blowingly conservative. But I do not want to blame a culture, a city, however prejudiced, for this man's indiscretions. I will not make excuses for someone just because he fits a stereotype.

Tomorrow, they begin their joint project. I'm hoping for her sake he will be professional, stick to work and toe the line, even if barely. Going by the past few weeks, maybe it's expecting too much. These things more often escalate than die down I'm told. So, in the meanwhile, I guess I'll turn the volume up on my ringer just in case she calls. From 5000 miles away, the only thing I can really do is hope and listen.


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UPDATE : In the short time since I've put this post up, I've already heard from quite a few people. All of whom, (four of them being very sympathetic men) know at least 1 person who has suffered through this sort of thing or worse. Appalled enough by how things can be to write this, I'm horrified even further as it occurs to me that perhaps it is far more rampant than I imagined.
I always imagined that when this sort of thing happened, only meek women wouldn't have the courage to speak up. Now I see that sometimes speaking up has consequences that forces one into situations where it means choosing between the devil and the deep blue sea. It can mean setting yourself up for public scrutiny, accusations of mis-conduct (because ofcourse, a woman invites all the attention she is bestowed with) and many aspersions of guilt.

While it's all very fine to rant academically about this kind of thing, those lucky enough to work in a great environment (including me) have little idea what it can be like to have deal with this on a day-to-day basis. Especially for those that work in organisations that don't provide a framework of liability/accountability to check this kind of misbehaviour. Behaviour that is clearly improper, that makes it very difficult for a woman to work and yet doesn't cross over into what ( I think) would constitute sexual harassment. Does anyone know what the line is? Legally, maybe?