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Sunday, January 22

Men will be men (ie pigs), after all.

He whistled slowly as she walked by his desk, a couple of his henchmen crowded around him like frat boys.

“With that ass, it’s no wonder she’s been getting so much attention. What man in his right mind could resist a treat like that?”

She stopped walking abruptly and turned to him. “Excuse me?”

He raised an eyebrow and eyed her hungrily. “Oh, I’m sorry, honey. Did you not hear me?” A man beside him chuckled.

“Well, I think I heard you correctly, but I’m having a hard time believing that even you would make a comment so misguided and offensive.”

He held out his hands to his sides, the picture of innocence. “Offensive? I was just paying you a compliment.” He tilted his head and eyed her. “A well deserved compliment.”

At this, she crossed her arms in front of her and looked him over, from his scuffed shoes and ill-fitting pants, all the way to his shiny, balding head. Taking it all in, this image of a sad man who was trying so hard to recapture his glory days, she couldn’t help but smile slightly.

Seeing her smile, he smirked, clearly thinking he had won. Flattered his way through her weak, feminine defenses. “That’s the spirit, sweetheart.” One of his cronies high-fived him, laughing.

“You know what your problem is, Ed?”

He turned to look at her, smile frozen on his face.

“You are unforgivably daft.”

Now it was his turn to look offended. “What did you say?”

He leaned forward in his chair, and it creaked under the weight of his body.

“Now, I know that this might be hard for you to understand, but the compliments that I’ve been getting on my work have nothing to do with body.”

Ed laughed, leaning his head back and putting one hand on his slight gut. She noticed that his shirt was a little tight, and found this detail to be sad. He must have been quite dashing a few years ago.

“I get it. You’re threatened. I’m, what? Ten years younger than you? I’ve been promoted three times in the last eight months, while you’ve been sitting at the same desk for the better part of the decade. And insult of all insults,” she leaned forward and raised an eyebrow, “I’m a woman.”

He scoffed, but it was half-hearted. He had lost his bravado and seemed to deflate slightly under her hard, unwavering gaze.

“Now, in the back of your head, there’s a voice that’s saying, ‘Maybe she’s smarter than you. Faster than you. Works harder than you. Maybe, just maybe, she’s better than you.’ But you can’t handle it. Your poor, fragile little ego just can’t stand the thought. So you look at my body, you look at my ass, and you think, ‘No. A woman like that — she must be sleeping her way to the top. She must be an absolute whore.’

“But let me tell you something, Ed. I’m not here because I’m pretty. I’m not here because I let men make me their play-thing. I’m here because I do my job, and I do it well.”

He stared at her, they all stared at her, wordlessly. Ed’s mouth was open, and yet he was unable to articulate the shock and rage that was so plainly written on his face.

She narrowed her eyes and took a step back, disgusted. “You know, I think your lack of ability to come up with a proper response to my tirade shows exactly why you haven’t been promoted in so long.”

He coughed and began to say something, but she held up a finger and cut him off. “I could get you for sexual harassment, you know. Go to HR right now and get you fired. Right now. But that would only give you an excuse.”

She gave him one last look as she turned away. “And I have a feeling you’re on your way out anyway.”

--

This is how I wish every scene in Mad Men would end.

4 comments:

Cat said...

Did this conversation really happen?

Satpreet Kahlon said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
S. Kahlon said...

Nope. Pure fiction. But if I ever work in an office, I dare some man to comment on my booty. I dare him.

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