Once upon a time, there was a grad student, pretty, bright, and lively. Let’s call her Fae, because that wasn’t her name, and I’m telling tales out of school. And I won’t swear to it that I ever got the whole story straight, or that I remember all the details today, over 25 years later.
Fae arrived in our department like a breath of fresh air, accompanied by her husband, a good-looking, likable chap, quietly competent in his field. Let’s call him Nick, because it’s kinda sorta like his real name if you play word-association games.
Everybody in our group liked them, and we were always happy to help with their computing needs. Nick was teaching, and Fae was working for us for a while, so she spent a lot of time hanging out in our area. Being both intelligent and decorative, she was always welcome.
They seemed like a great couple, so I found it a bit odd when she started sitting on my lap during her daily visits to my cube. She was warm and curvy and looked and smelled nice, so I certainly didn’t mind, but I never tested the waters, and the most I ever pursued our friendship was inviting her to go shooting with me. Admittedly, that was about the time I got the impression things were on the rocks with Nick, but while I was attracted, there was a little warning light flashing somewhere off in the distance.
The local shooting range was up near my apartment, so she was going to meet me at my place. To my surprise, she showed up with another of my co-workers. Let’s call him Carlton, because it lets me make an obscure reference to both Rhoda and “Dave’s Comic” (which I really should scan in someday; I’m probably the only one who still has a copy).
Carlton was a cool guy, and a bit of an oddball in our group of sysadmins, since he actually had a Master’s degree in computer science. He was also older, married, and had several kids. He was a gun-nut and liberty-oriented kind of guy, the sort whose guns had no paper trail, all having been acquired through family. (and, speaking of bullet-dodging, he at one point asked me to buy one for him…)
Anyway, we had a good time, they hung out at my place for a while after, and Carlton even borrowed my paperback copy of the Kama Sutra.
Not long after, the shit hit the fan. Not only was Nick heading back to his old school, alone (and a quick Google suggests he’s doing quite well there today), Carlton was leaving his wife, his kids, his church, and his job, and moving to another state. With Fae.
She was, it seems, trading up. Nick, it turned out, was husband #2, and when Carlton settled into his new life and showed no signs of further advancement, she left him, too. I recall hearing that she stayed with #4, but I only know one person in that circle any more, and I’ve never asked.
There’s not really a moral to this story, but it came to mind now because of all the people vigorously pretending to be shocked, shocked that everyone kept their mouths shut for decades about the boors and villains in entertainment, media, and politics. There are some clear victims (and not just the kids), but also a whole lot of gray areas suddenly being repainted black and white now that it’s to their advantage.
Y’know, when a Major Celebrity invites two young starlets that he just met out for dinner, a little red flag goes up. When the first thing he does at the restaurant is offer pills and wine to wash them down with, there’s another little red flag. When you get in a cab with him and he takes you, not to your home, not to his home, but to a friend’s apartment, two or three more little red flags go up. By the time he starts stripping your unconscious friend on the bed, I’m pretty sure you’ve had the chance to figure out that he was just hunting for pussy all along.
Yes, he’s a creepy predator sexually assaulting a woman who can’t consent. No, she’s not asking for it, it’s not her fault, and she doesn’t deserve it. But she wouldn’t be his victim that night if she hadn’t chosen to ignore the warning signs. There’s a lot of talk about “denying women agency”, but that’s precisely what the black-and-white paint job does; it’s as dishonest as “I was just cleaning my gun when it suddenly went off” or “honest, officer, I was just standing on the corner minding my own business”.
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