Quick chum, to the Bat-Phone!
I found out that my company has an “Harassment Reporting Line,” which is an 800 number one can call if one’s harassed.
I know Fortune 500 companies have layer upon layer of bureaucracy, as well as plenty of employees who really don’t do much outside of a finely defined role, so I picture in my head a lone secretary sitting at a desk buried in a back cubicle somewhere on the 38th floor. She has on her desk nothing but a computer and a telephone with a big red bulb on it. She can’t dial out, it’s only for incoming calls.
She’s Judy, the Harassment Reporting Line Operator.
She sits for hours. Hours turn into days. Days continue to roll by, and Judy begins to think that maybe somehow humanity has changed for the better. Maybe there’s no more hate, no more injustice, no more catching your co-worker pantsless on the Xerox.
And then, some random Tuesday after she’s lulled herself into another daydream, a piercing ring and flashing light spurs Judy into action.
She snaps her arm out and snares the receiver, pulling it quickly to her ear, careful not to waste a movement or a moment.
“This is Judy, how may I help you?”
But Judy means it. Judy is the defender of corporate righteousness. She considers herself a crusader of sorts. Some cross between Dear Abby and Big Brother. Right now, she’s only here to listen, but soon she will find a champion to take up the noble fight for her constituency.
A bead of sweat gathers on her brow as she’s been typing furiously along, verbatim, as this poor soul bears witness. Her eyes widen, then narrow with purpose as the tortured woman on the other end of the line relays an inappropriate remark, a less than casual brush in the hallways, and a lewd offer that she actually, but only fleetingly, considered taking for her career.
Judy’s gentle prodding helps the woman find a comfort level, a friend, an ally in her attempt to bring justice to her situation. With nerves of steel, Judy carefully keys in the woman’s tale, which has quickly gone from innocent office flirtation to Penthouse Forum material. She assures the woman that swift attention shall be given to her plight.
And swift it shall be.
With a click of the mouse the printer hums gently, immortalizing in black and white the latest sordid chapter she’s recorded. Judy takes action, marching directly into the investigator’s office and thrusts her paperwork under his nose. As he reads, she sits with arms folded, ready to provide any embellishment to the story that’s required.
A disapproving shake of the head and a promise to thoroughly investigate return Judy to her desk triumphant. She’ll never hear from the young woman again, but inside she knows that she didn’t fail her. She very easily could have saved her life, or at least her chastity or honor.
Judy slept well that night. She always sleeps well. She works on the side of virtue, of business appropriateness.
She’s Judy, the Harassment Reporting Line Operator.