Our Bodies, ourselves

images1.jpg Apparently, the men in my office get together and talk about the bods of the women in the office. There was one group email that circulated commenting on the view of one set of “beautiful cantaloupes” during a photo session. Various young ladies have complained about one person in IT who loves to call them all “sexy” and “baby” and complain about being married. I was a little shocked to hear this goes on, from people I know and who have been perfectly nice to me. My husband’s reaction to this was to shake his head and say “why are people still eight years old.” (Sensitivity Points for Husband.) There was one guy who is such a lonely oddball that he gets inebriated at office functions and hits on everyone (the old throw-everything-on-the-wall-and-see-what-sticks technique). At one such event, he actually massaged my back while I was talking to friendlier colleagues, causing me to say “Lots of inappropriate touching going on right now” while dissolving into uncontrollable giggles. (Um, I’m eight years old.)

I don’t know what to think. It sort of is sexual harassment — not the “Disclosure” kind starring in Demi Moore and Michael Douglas, in his favorite kind of role of being a victim (See
“Falling Down,” where he gets victimized by and then turns his anger on every minority group. Poor rich white man. Pleeeeeeease.) More annoying than threatening. I don’t think we all have to ignore the fact that we have bodies, but it’s funny how some males still don’t see how this might be somewhat offensive to the ladies, and I don’t understand why more people don’t hit on me. I still have it going on. (ha ha ha ha) And that’s the other weird side of this equation. I’m passing that age where people look at me, and not that I was ever Prom Queen, but there’s definitely something about being a young woman that draws people’s eye and they do stop looking as you age. Isn’t that weird? It’s like when Shirley MacClaine told AARP Magazine that she feels invisible, especially after working with Cameron Diaz. Oh my god, I’m like Shirley MacClaine.

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