The Bad Touch

I'm a consultant. My company has a lucrative contract with a large Federal agency. We're helping them design a large IT system. We're not actually building the system, mind you. We're just helping them figure out how to pay for it and then build it. The Federal government is awash with many of the most grossly incompetent, unmotivated idiots you'll ever meet, so there are lots of opportunities for companies like mine to help them figure things out. And let me tell you, business is booming.

Most of my coworkers have some specialty. Some are programmers and some are accountants. I, however, have no specialty. I'm a generalist. They hired me by design, I believe. They need someone to talk to the client, and that someone is me. I have people skills, damn it, and I often find myself in the role of shaking hands and making promises and telling Government people that everything is going to be okay if they'll just butt out for a while.

So my job is to make friends with everyone, and I'm pretty good at it.

Today I was on site, getting ready for a status meeting with Joe, one of my favorite Government people. He's a self-proclaimed Maryland redneck. He drives a Mustang, and he recently told me how excited he was to be taking his wife to see Rascal Flats for her birthday. The guy really couldn't be less like me, but I'm actually very fond of him. Joe is one of the few Government people I've met who takes the idea of civil service seriously, and he works his ass off. You see that a lot in the Government- a phenomenon my boss calls work magnets. If 90% of the Federal workforce is a waste of oxygen, the other 10% must be doing all the work. Joe just attracts everyone else's assignments like a magnet, and he does the work of ten bureaucrats. Plus he drops the F bomb a lot and calls Asian people Orientals. That always makes me laugh.

I was standing outside Joe's cube, organizing the materials for the meeting. He walks up and stands next to me and puts his hand on my back, between my shoulder blades. That's a little inappropriate, but I'm willing to overlook it because he's Joe and that's just kinda how he do. He's standing way too close, and I'm easing back ever so slightly, probably imperceptibly. But because Joe is a close talker, he's got a sub-conscious awareness of that kind of thing so he presses more firmly on my back and leans closer to me. He's just making small talk at this point, asking how I'm doing and kidding me around a bit. I realize I'm probably being silly, so I just loosen up and let him violate my personal space. I like Joe, and having Joe like me is integral to not only my personal success but, to a smaller extent, the success of the company. I can take one for the team and let him grope me for a while.

But then it gets much, much worse. He slowly starts to slide his hand down my back, til it comes to rest on my belt. He's got his hand open, so half his fingers are below my belt, dangerously close to my buttcrack. The rest of his hand is on the small of my back. It's exactly where you put your hand when you're slow dancing with your girl. It's also exactly where you touch a 31 year old consultant to make him feel like a whore.

There is nothing I can do at that point. I have to finish the conversation and let him cop his feel. Mercifully he doesn't get any closer to my no no parts, but I'm afraid my lack of action implies complicity. This is bound to happen again, and I probably won't say anything next time, either. My review is coming up in July, and I have a wedding to pay for. The things I'll do for love.