Small rage-outlet of a post. Ada Lovelace Day post in the works.
Client just walked into my office, his phone ringtone blaring Eye of the Tiger. I joked that he had entrance music. His totally resonable response was to start doing a striptease at me.
Fucks sake. He will, I am totally sure, interpret my embarrassed, threatened laugh and covered face as approval, and will do it again in the future.
Rape culture means that even as I began writing this, I had to admonish myself that the qualifier ‘stupidly’ did not belong before ‘joked’. I did not cause this incidence of harassment by noting his ringtone. But victim-blaming rape culture means that I consciously have to tell myself that. And it means that I will remain the embarrassed person every time he walks into the office from now on – not him as it ought to be. Not the man who walked into a professional service corporate office and began a striptease in the foyer. What the fuck.