Man Bag

Six years ago, I got in trouble at work for joking with a male co-worker on a public elevator about his leather messenger bag, which I admired. In fact, I'd asked him about it a few days before, and he'd replied, "That's my man bag."  When he and I were riding down the elevator I made a quip about liking his "man bag." I have no idea what else I said - maybe I asked him if it was heavy. There was another guy on the elevator with us, but that didn't seem significant.

I was called up to the board room the following day and faced by a grim army of accusers. The director, his secretary, the assistant director, the HR person, my manager and her assistant advised me that my co-worker had filed a formal complaint against me for sexual harassment, because I had referred to his "man bag." I was flabbergasted. What had I done wrong? Had I insulted his masculinity? Was he worried that the other guy on the elevator might think he was gay? I'd never heard the term until the co-worker had told it to me himself.

The meeting became very threatening and severe. My female boss and her assistant sat stone-faced. No one defended me. Finally, I had had enough. I spoke out and requested that the co-worker who had made the accusation be called into the meeting, so I could apologize to him personally, because surely it was a misunderstanding. I was amazed when they complied, and even more surprised when my co-worker accepted my humble apology for embarrassing him, and we were able to shake hands. That was the end of it. Of course, until the day he quit, I avoided him like leprosy.

This past weekend, my boyfriend and I went to WisCon, the feminist science fiction conference held yearly in Madison, Wisconsin, and the subject of sexual harassment came up in the opening ceremonies. Post-con, we were discussing the topic on Facebook chat and I remarked that in this litigious society, those types of accusations can go any number of ways. I then recounted my man-bag story. Imagine my shock when my boyfriend gently told me that "man bag" means "scrotum."

Imagine my surprise. I had absolutely no knowledge of that fact. I'd never heard the term used that way. Ever. I think I surprised him, too. I think there are a lot of things about which I am still naïve.

So. Let me see if I understand this. I'm thinking of the parties involved, that fateful day at work in 2008. We have my co-worker -- a very funny and educated man who was definitely not kinky. We have me - and at the time I was not dating anyone and was somewhat out of the loop. We have the library administration, whose backgrounds are unknown to me. We have the cultural disconnect that occurs when something might mean something entirely different to individuals in our diverse population. I don't remember the other guy on the elevator. Many questions come to mind:

--Did any of the people at work, including the owner of the man-bag, know of the double entendre?
--Did none of them know? Was the guy on the elevator the one who embarrassed my co-worker?
--Did all of them know - and did they assume I knew?
--Did it not occur to one the female admin people, if she indeed knew the sexual connotation, to take me aside and ask me if I realized what I'd said?
 --Or was my co-worker an asshole who wanted to get me in trouble?
Which leads to:
 --Did my co-worker know damned well that "man bag" meant "scrotum" right from the beginning--and did he assume I knew this, too? Because if this is the case, he was the one guilty of sexual harassment!

It upsets me to think that for six years there have been people at my former workplace who heard about me getting in trouble for talking to a male co-worker on the elevator about his genitalia. And I'll never know. Most of the people involved are gone from that workplace. I retired four years ago.

We googled "man bag" last night and found this link: http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=MANbag - and this one: https://www.google.com/search?q=man+bag&safe=off&rlz=1T4GGNI_enUS550US552&tbm=isch&tbo=u&source=univ&sa=X&ei=ulCFU9uMOs-wyAS33IGoDw&ved=0CD4QsAQ&biw=1024&bih=420

I'm just shaking my head. I also learned that tea-bagging is a vulgar term - I invite anyone reading this to look it up. And I drank tea at work, and probably talked about my tea bags in the employees' lounge.

Thank heavens I wasn't disciplined in 2008. Thank heavens I was fortunate enough to retire in 2010 with a buyout. I am beginning to understand now why my hair fell out after I left that place. Years and years of pent-up stress can cause autoimmune disease. I'll add another thank heavens - my hair has grown back, just as naturally curly and just as ginger brown as it was before; in fact, it's longer.
Most of all, I am grateful to be gone from a place where freedom of speech was becoming extinct and staff members were routinely called out, written up and suspended without a shard of human coaching or decent consideration. We were cut no slack toward the end. I have to laugh now - they tried so hard to hang me, and they couldn't do it. They ended up paying me to leave.

Tea, anyone?