Had to respond to “Once Thin, Twice Shy” and other folks looking to stop someone from being hurtful to others/sharing TMI.

A friend of mine used to think it was hilarious to ask strangers stupid questions and see how they reacted. He’d walk up to someone outside the Eiffel Tower and say, “Excuse me, do you know where the Eiffel Tower is?” and then watch them puzzle over whether he was really that stupid. It was basically a way of making fun of other people — and it drove me nuts.

I finally got some great advice that worked wonders: I just told him, “I can’t stand when you do that. I think it’s mean and belittling to people — and from now on, if you do it, I’m going to walk away.” And I did. If he asked the guy at the hot dog stand, “Do you sell hot dogs?” he’d turn around and I’d be 100 feet away, ignoring it. At first, he’d catch up to me laughing, trying to get me to say it was funny. When he got no reaction, he’d get puzzled and sad. But eventually, he stopped doing it in front of me.

What the people who are making snide remarks really want is an audience. They want approval for their meanness — and even sitting there taking it is tacit approval. If they don’t get that, they get embarrassed and give up.

Hope that helps.

Walking Away

Here’s my problem, and it’s a pretty big one.

I’m 21 years old, gainfully employed, come from a stable family, et cetera. I’m also a big guy (6’3″) and I live in a reasonably modern suburb of a reasonably large city. Nearly four months ago, a 16-year-old girl — we’ll call her “Amy” — came home from a party we had both been at and claimed that I had beaten and raped her. Never mind that I had been at the party for less than 15 minutes and hadn’t even seen this girl. Never mind that I had a steady girlfriend and the trust of my family, friends, and (before the incident) community. She claimed that I had done this horrible thing, and in her defense, she had obviously been savagely attacked. But not by me. Not. By. Me.

Try telling that to damn near everyone in my community. Aside from my girlfriend and the members of my immediate family, it seemed as though I had already admitted to raping and assaulting “Amy” and done so with a shit-eating grin on my face. Despite the fervent defense of my family and my girlfriend, nothing seemed to work. At best, I got cold, frightened stares from some, and at worst, threats of bodily harm and damage done to my house and car from others. Her boyfriend even publicy threatened to “return the favor” with a mop handle to a chorus of cheers.

Eventually, as she was forced to explain her accusation, her story began to unravel. Her recollections of certain times and heights and features became increasingly inconsistent. When faced with the mounting doubt about her story, she finally broke down and recanted. Apparently, her lovely, chivalrous boyfriend had raped and beaten her, and she was “too scared” to tell the authorities different. In terms of legal stature, my name was cleared and I regained my status as an “innocent man.”

Again…try telling that to damn near everyone in my community. Months later, people still give me reproachful looks in public. I still get middle-aged men clenching their fists and making sure I notice their barely concealed desire for physical violence. My girlfriend consistently has people tell her that “if she needs to talk, they’ll be there,” and she has been passed pamphlets and other materials concerning battered women. Even members of my extended family have acted weird around me. Couple this with the fact that I’ve always been a very social, outgoing person, and basically, I’ve been in hell for the past few months. When I finally got fed up and confronted the local pharmacist about it, she said, “True or not, that girl saw something in you.” And this woman had known me since I was old enough to walk.

I’m no longer the tall, strapping young man wth a heart of gold who always lends a hand. Now, I’m the scary brute who got off on a technicality. Seriously, I’m starting to get worried for my safety and the safety of my loved ones, a.k.a. those who “support a horrid rapist” according to the townsfolk.

My question is this: What can I do? Is there anything that can be done to restore my damaged name? I’ve also felt guilty because compared to what happened to “Amy,” my struggles have been comparatively less severe. Part of me says that I should take this accusation like a man because rape is the worst thing that can be done to a woman. But then again, she has pretty much ruined my life for the foreseeable future. My girlfriend and my mom, who have been my rocks and basically saved my perception of the female gender, think we should stand up in a town meeting and demand that things be hashed out right then and there (Mom) or just move and leave it all behind (girlfriend). I’m really too tired and ruined by the whole thing to care either way. Any advice you could provide would be much appreciated. Or if not, just let people out there know that the term “innocent man” can actually be true sometimes.

Defeated

I thought I’d ask your advice on a few situations that have been going on for a while (all names are changed to protect the innocent/guilty/stupid).

I’m a well-respected and valued employee at one of these fun entertainment retail stores. I’m still “just a cashier” because there’s no higher position open for me, but the general manager herself trusts me with a lot of tasks that employees of my stature don’t usually do. I digress.

First, my AGM, Valerie. Bottom line, she is unprofessional. Valerie strongly favors some employees over others, and thinks she’s God’s gift to retail management. For example, there was a time my coworker (and good friend) Karen was talking in front of our other coworker Nick about how she was considering quitting, and Valerie cut her hours drastically with no explanation. Karen went to Valerie, and Valerie told her that Nick had relayed what Karen had said about quitting to her. Valerie said, “You’ve been working a long, hard six years, Karen. You deserve a break.” Karen told Valerie she never said anything like that. Karen was reasonably angry, and told me about it. I was disgusted, but Karen’s hours went back up the next week.

Valerie also makes very inappropriate, very disgusting sex comments every once in a while. A customer, who was obviously mortified, bought a Kama Sutra spin-off. The ENTIRE TIME the customer was there, Valerie was saying things like, “Oh, I have that book! My husband and I try something new every night. It’s really great. The second edition has even more positions!” Ick. She also told the new manager straight to his face, “You aren’t good enough to work our VIP night. It requires more experience than you have.” The guy is more experienced now than Valerie was when she was first hired as a manager (last year).

Valerie has no regard for the welfare of employees, either. Several times, when employees have been sick, but are loyal enough to come into work anyway, she’s told them to “tough it out” or some such when they ask to go home. A coworker, Dan, had thrown out his back while unloading The Truck Which Brings Us Stock ™, and Valerie refused to send him home, saying, “There’s still work to be done,” even though the ship/receive manager Cassandra told Valerie that Dan should go home and rest. Valerie told Cassandra to have him sit and continue his tasks. Cassandra told Valerie that the welfare of her employees comes first, and sent Dan home anyway, after calling the GM at home to tell her what happened.

Second, Nick. Nick is a coworker of mine who was a regular cashier when I started two years ago. He and I originally got along pretty well, until one of the head cashiers left and he was promoted to replace her. Ever since his promotion, he’s had a head so inflated it must have its own zip code. He’s bossed me around before and told me what tasks I have to do, even though I’ve been there nearly two years now and obviously know what I’m doing (I could do his job with very little training). He and I have fought before, and he has caused me problems such that one of the floor managers had to pull both of us aside and ask what the problem was. Nick, of course, said I was insubordinate, but I was only so because he is the only one who treats me with NO respect whatsoever. At a party, Nick (completely sober) told all of us that during his monthly review, Valerie had told him, “If I were general manager, there would be only three employees I’d keep. You, Amanda, and Jason.” Nick bragged about this, but none of us wanted to blow up at him and cause mayhem at a party that was otherwise going very well.

Dilemma in a nutshell: A lot of employees — I’m talking about 70 percent of the thirty or so in the store — have problems with these two particular people. Since one of the people is the assistant GM, the only other person we can go to locally with superior power is the general manager. Should I try going to the general manager about these ongoing problems? Should I go straight to corporate, whose offices may as well be the Lost City of Atlantis? Or should I grin and bear it? I hesitate to quit my job, because other than the problems above, I love it.

Thanks,
Trying Not To Strangle My AGM

About a year ago I went out with a very awesome guy, Mark. We work together, but in different departments, so I knew him, but only what you can learn in those five-minute smoke breaks. But he was very sweet and totally cool, and when he started calling me, I was very excited.

By the time our date rolled around, I was totally nervous — not so much for the date itself, but because I had just had surgery and it was my first major post-op event. It was “supposed” to be just a bite to eat, then a cheesy action flick…but it somehow snowballed into dinner at a very posh Cajun restaurant (I was wearing overalls to not aggravate my stomach staples) with four other people from work that I did not really know, and then the whole group of us heading off to the theater. I will say, he was a perfect gentleman the whole time, but didn’t really show any signs of “interest,” which got me thinking he had maybe changed his mind and was turning this into a friend thing. By the end of the night I was totally confused, not to mention in pain from the spicy food and recent gall bladder extraction (why Cajun food? Why??), so when he pulled into my parking lot and did not even turn off the car, I assumed he just wanted to get the hell out of Dodge. Needless to say, I had seen no signs of interest, which is why I did not utter those three words: “Wanna come up?”

Fast forward to the present. We have maintained a great friendship, with a little sexual weirdness — usually associated with tequila or rum, but more importantly, he is one of my closest friends and he was my totally savior when my father died. My now ex-boyfriend totally wigged out and just closed me off, and Mark was the one to tell me I was going to make it and I was strong enough, and just let me cry and freak out like anyone dealing with loss ought to.

Now, I am single, and I have my own apartment and a very odd relationship with Mark — almost like we are both in dating denial. We started a physical relationship, and while it is going along swimmingly, he won’t put a “dating” label on us because a year ago I neglected to say those infamous words: “Wanna come up?” I find this highly unfair and somewhat disturbing; while he disagrees, I feel that I am very much in the right here — because I think I was given every indication that if I asked the answer would be no…I’m not saying that this guy is my soul mate or anything like that, but I think there would be no harm in taking it to the next level.

How am I to make him see that what happened then is in the past, and we have the possibility for some great times now?

Beck And Call Girl

I’m writing regarding a friendship I’ve had for over ten years with a girl I’ll call
“J.” We been friends since high school and have
gone through many trials and tribulations together.

She began dating her (now) husband, “T,” about seven years ago. He
was a good guy — kind and sensitive. You know, like a normal
human being, and therefore unlike any other guy she’d been
involved with before. T was a devout Catholic. Like myself, J had always held agnostic
views toward religion. Their relationship began to get more serious after a couple of
months, and they began discussing marriage. He was insistent that
they be married in a Catholic church. In order to do that, she would have to convert to Catholicism. He
didn’t want her to go through the motions just to placate him and
his family, either. He wanted her to mean it. There was no
compromising either, it was his way or the highway.

Never having reacted well to ultimatums in the past, I thought
that she’d kick him to the curb. To my surprise, she began
attending conversion classes and pre-marriage counseling at his
church. I found it all to be a bit strange, but she was genuinely happy,
so bit my tongue and supported her decision.

They were married about a year after her conversion. They moved
out of state, and we haven’t lived within 1,000 miles of each other
since then. We have, however, remained close by means of hand-
written letters, phone calls, emails, et cetera — mostly email.

Two years and two children later, she contacted me to tell me that
they were going to become church missionaries. They would be
moving to an extremely rural part of the country to assist flood
victims in restoring their homes and shops, hopefully converting
them in the process. Again, I found it all strange, but supported her. Because again,
she was happy and seemed so proud of what she was doing. Two months into their mission, she became pregnant with child
number three and asked me to be the godmother. I accepted, and
attended the ceremony this past April.

It was the first time I’d seen her second child (and third,
obviously), and over two years since I’d seen her, T, and their
first child. I was worried about how things would go; since so much time had
gone by, I didn’t really know what to expect. Like I said, we’d
always stayed in close contact, but she’d gone through a lot of
lifestyle changes while I’d stayed the same as I’d ever been. It seemed that my worries had been for naught. Aside from her
being distracted, which was to be expected with three young kids
depending on her, she seemed like herself — the same old J I knew
and loved dearly.

Fast forward to a couple of weeks ago. She sent an email, which I
should have deleted without reading it when I saw that the first
line read, “I know you’re not religious, but…” I read it anyway. She said that she and T had decided to quit
their mission because they didn’t seem to be getting anywhere with
the conversions and had finished all of the home/shop repairs
within their capacity. She was also unhappy about the area where
they lived. The fact that they weren’t accruing any income
factored in as well. She continued that she’d been praying for some guidance on
what to do — a “what now?” kind of thing. Here’s the kicker:
while she was out for a walk one day, she heard a voice in her
head say, “Carver.” T has been looking for jobs since they made their decision, and got
a job offer in a city called Carver. She said that it was a
miracle, that God had spoken to her, and she was all “Praise Jebus”
and whatnot.

I was completely squicked by all of the religious references in her
email and simply chose to ignore it. The more I thought about
it, the more irritated I became. She clearly has no regard for my feelings. I have never been, and
still am not, comfortable with religious references of any kind.
To make matters worse, I’ve been painstakingly considerate of her
feelings — not swearing, cracking filthy nun jokes, or dissing child-
molesting priests per my usual behavior and her past behavior. She’s sent things before such as links to religious sites,
forwarded religious anecdotes…that sort of crap. The two times
she’s done that, I’ve told her flat-out to stop, that it makes me
uncomfortable, that it’s just not my bag. She apologized on both
occasions, and that was that.

I fear I’ve opened a door that can’t be closed again by becoming
the godmother of her child. I see the “mother” part — it’s a
promise to take care of the baby should something happen to her or
T — and I’m afraid that she’s only seeing the “God” part.

It’s now obvious to me that we’ve grown apart. I didn’t want to
admit it to myself, because we’ve been friends for so damned long
and it seems like we should be able to work this out. So now I’m stuck. What should I do? Give her another wrist slap,
or cut my losses and sever ties?

Sincerely,
Irritated Agnostic