The Christmas do. A yearly occurrence for
most of the employed of the UK – and seemingly a grim time of year for women.
YAY!
Pub. Friday. We were not on a Christmas
night out. A large group of drunk office workers started to make themselves
known. Standing on stools to sing along to the jukebox, falling over each
other, dominating the space. Men in suits, women dressed up for a night out. A
man at the bar half stood on me, half leant on me. When I asked him not to
stand on me, he looked surprised there was a person there at all, and did step
off me. He was so drunk he had literally not seen me.
We all got on with our respective nights
out. Later, we were all distracted when a woman, in tears, was rooted to her
spot by a colleague leaning one arm over her shoulder onto the wall. It was so
uncomfortable to watch, he was drunk, sweaty and leery and there was something
so wrong about it. Why did he need to take such a domineering stance? One of my
friends went over under the guise of going to the toilet, stepped between them
and asked if she was ok. She was and thanked my mate; he was annoyed she was
‘interfering’. Back at our seats, two men had now descended on the girl, and
she wouldn’t have been able to move without pushing them out her way. We kept
her within sight and made it clear if she wasn’t ok she was to let us know. No
one else from the same night out noticed.
Eventually, she did try to move, she wanted
to get her bag from across the pub. The men restrained her, not with much
force, but enough. My turn. I got up and explained I would feel more
confortable if this lady was allowed to get her bag. Once she had her bag, I
said I would be happy to leave them to their night.
Small things I know. Anyway – it escalated.
Several of the men used their unspent testosterone (boke) asking me why I
interfered, and trying to start a fight with the guys in our group. We left the
pub a short while later feeling like vigilantes having seen the girl in the
centre of the prey party go home with a female colleague. The story of the scuffle had already become legend in the men's toilet.
I am not apologising for what happened. Nor
will anyone else I was in the pub with. I do consider people might ask ‘why get involved’ – but I know exactly why we did. We were watching what
could have been a mate, sister, hells - a work colleague being coerced when
vulnerable, and I hope to buggary if the same thing ever happens to me, someone
else will be there to give me the opportunity to escape it.
I wasn’t going to write about this. But
then I came across this in the guardian today and it chilled me to the core.
The very idea that the men on Saturday night could not see clearly when we
intervened that their behavior was unacceptable speaks volumes. Drunk or not
drunk, no woman is any kind of ‘game’ and if I see you in public treating her
like she is, every fucking time, I’m going to get involved.
