Skip to main content

Not So Refreshing

I am required, at my current job, to take an annual ethics refresher course. This computer-based traning module uses hypothetical scenarios to quiz employees about what is and isn't appropriate in the workplace. Intellectual property rights, conflicts of interest, insider training — they're all part of the ethical stew boiling on the burner of businesses these days. No one wants to be the next Enron.

Funny thing is, the most widely reported unethical practice reported at my company last year didn't have anything to do with stock trading or stealing secrets. It was sexual harassment.

Are people tired of hearing others make a lewd comment? Or are women being propositioned with threats of losing their job if they do not cooperate?

I'd guess that there isn't much mysterious and puzzling about a high number of sexual harassment reports.

I think that, in general, the world's filled with a bunch of perverts. We're all perverts, really. Admit it. Have you ever told a dirty joke? Or watched someone nude in a movie? It might depend on what constitutes perversion in your own world. But it's safe to say we're all human, we're all sexual beings, and we all got here because two people inserted flap A into slot B.

What gets people into trouble is lack of tact. People don't know when to shut up. Or when to avoid opening their mouth in the first place. People have trouble keeping their thoughts and, in some cases, their hands to themselves.

I've had men call me honey and sweetie and sugar at work. I once was asked whether I wanted to see some guy's pecker. Turns out it was a woodpecker statue on his office windowsill, but the innuendo oozed from that moment like pus from a boil. A police detective I worked with when I was a reporter once watched me walk through inclement weather and into a building. When I smoothed down my skirt with my palms and declared, "Wow, it's windy out there," he smirked, deliberately stared at my butt and said, "Wow. Why yes it is." Then there was the news editor who loved to create new expletives and try them out on me. My personal "favorite" was one that involved both a barnyard animal and a crude name for a sexual act.

Some of us know what's appropriate. Many do not. I thought it ironic that we call it an ethics "refresher" course. Some people should be a little less fresh.

Comments

Brianne said…
Yeah... Thankfully I don't have to put up with that at my current job (just with grammatical retardation from my co-workers). But it ran amok at Outback. But I think that's true of any restaurant.

Popular posts from this blog

Holy Separated-At-Birth, Batman!

Gary Oldman...meet Uncle Knit-Knots from Imagination Movers.

Hair

This has become the age-old question...Why do men hate short hair on women? I've been thinking about this a lot because my current style, an angled bob, requires a bunch of fussing every morning to get it to do anything. My favorite haircut of all time, as far as ease of care, was my pixie cut. I loved that I could wash it, gel it, and be done. No blow drying or flattening or curling. Just gel and go. Very sporty. I thought it looked cute. My husband has another opinion. The longer the better is his motto. Thing is, my hair becomes an unruly, tangled, nappy mop when it gets long. If I had all the time in the world and Jennifer Aniston's budget, I'd be more than happy to grow it long and have others style it every day. In real life, I guess I'd rather go for comfort and convenience. And if you ask me, I think the pixie is dang cute. I suspect heterosexual men aren't hot on short hair, in general, because it's too much like their own hair. No matter how much jewel

Ho, Ho, Ho, How Many Times Can I Use "I'm too busy" as an Excuse?

I haven't had time to write. Work, swim meet volunteering, holiday decorating and shopping. But truthfully, I've not been in much of a mood to write anything anyway. Last night we put up the tree and Santa chachkies, and I drank my first egg nog of the season, so perhaps I'll be in a cheerier mood. Also, I have spent some time writing the annual Schoon holiday newsletter. If you happen to get a copy, treat it like a drinking game. Every time I make you roll your eyes, take a drink. Nog, wassail, Everclear. Whatever gets you through. One sure way to assist with merriment motivation is listening to Christmas carols. I'm not going to get into a debate over what truly constitutes a carol. You can "Jesus is the reason for the season" yourself until you turn blue; I generally lean toward the secular end of the holiday tune spectrum. And if you just gasped at my use of holiday instead of Christmas, go suck on a candy cane. It's my blog and my opinions. Deal.