by Jason Letts
“So you’re saying that because it looks bad to investigate I have to live with this kind of harassment? Because someone bought a ticket I need to deal with my safety being at risk?”
I expected Andrew to get angry at these simple questions, but instead he softened and even smiled a little while tilting his head toward me. A second later his hand was lightly on my shoulder. He shrugged.
“Sarah, I’m trying to help you here. This can’t be the first time something like this has happened to you,” he said.
“Well, no, it’s not,” I said.
“Exactly. Excuse my saying it, but you’re an attractive young woman and the sorry thing about our world is that not every guy is capable of dealing with that in a mature manner. You know as well as I do that there’s no way to really stop it.”
I pursed my lips, glaring at him as he spoke.
“That’s debatable, and even if it can’t be stopped that’s no excuse not to do anything when it occurs,” I said.
“There is something we can do,” he said in a friendly manner as he brushed his sleeve against his goatee to clean it off a little. “I would be very happy to help you devise some strategies to help minimize these kinds of occurrences. The way you speak, your dress, your tone. I know what you’re thinking, that this is blaming the victim. It’s not your fault that this guy did this at all, but you can be proactive about curbing it.”
I watched him with a sensation of wonder coming over me. It wasn’t an offer to help. It was a pickup attempt.
“No, thank you,” I said.
A throat clearing drew my attention to my right, where a tall, strong man in a polo shirt was standing in line for one of the food trucks. It was Seth.
“Let me get this straight,” he said casually. “Someone sent her a vicious email and you think the proper response is for her to change her tone?”
I fought hard to suppress a grin. Andrew looked like he suddenly discovered a gun was being pointed at him.
“Seth, what are you doing here?” He stammered.
“I’m getting a chili dog. What does it look like? But answer my question.”
Andrew released an agonized breath and was nearly shaking.
“Seth, we can’t…”
“I’ll tell you what I can’t do,” Seth cut in. “I can’t participate in a festival where random nut jobs are given priority over the experts who’ve been invited here to speak.”
“What? You’re the keynote speaker,” Andrew muttered, but his face said it all. His eyelids quavered as he caved. It was obscene that my concerns weren’t enough to make him do something, but I did enjoy seeing Seth catch him by the balls.
CHAPTER 4
He looked so handsome standing on stage with his hands stuffed into the pockets of a fancy grey suit, sunglasses in the breast pocket.
“What will it be like when work becomes a purely mental exercise? Commuting, transferring money, tackling routine tasks, paperwork, manual labor. The day will come when much of what we consider work will be eliminated completely through automation. The day after that is when we all find ourselves in the business of dreaming.”
For a man who didn’t even bring a cell phone with him to the conference, Seth had a presentation playing against the wall that might’ve been directed by Steven Spielberg. The images and short video clips seemed to speak volumes and amplify everything Seth was saying. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say his keynote speech had been rehearsed fifty times, but I did know better and I had a strong guess that this was the first time he was performing it.
The crowd was wowed from what I could tell. Darla and the others in our group were sitting around me in seats to the far left. Andrew stood along the wall by the stairs to the stage, having fixed himself there after introducing Seth. Everyone in the packed hall was hanging on Seth’s every word.
All I could think of was what a tough act this was going to be to follow. Fortunately there were three others to go before me and I had hopes of reviving the audience and doing nearly as well as the man currently on stage. Darla leaned against my left shoulder.
“I thought you were going to be wearing your pin,” she whispered.
“Oh no, I forgot it in my room,” I said, feigning deep remorse.
“Don’t worry. I’ve got one here for you,” she said, slipping me another big, pink Girl Code pin. I took it even though there was zero chance I would wear it on stage. A crystal ball wasn’t necessary to foresee a hurt look and some cutting comments when I didn’t promote her gender-war-profiteering brand, but when I watched a video of this later on that’s not what I wanted to be a part of it.
When Seth’s presentation ended, there was an overflow of applause, which he was incredibly gracious about. I felt like I’d just had a vision of where I would be ten years from now. More than anything else, the power of his speech made me wonder if I’d been illuminating enough with my own. I still was far from an expert and certainly hadn’t spent my college days studying this. All I had to go on were the books I’d read and my gut feelings. What if I was so far behind that I thought I was leading?
My nerves only increased by the time my turn to speak came. All the practicing and rehearsing I’d done was slipping away from me, and I was terrified that I’d stand up there and just plain read off my screen, a total embarrassment. None of the previous presenters, Darla included, did anything that would make it easy for me to contrast favorably.
Andrew took the stage to light clapping for my introduction. I wished at that moment I’d invited someone to come here and support me. Keenan, my sister, Lena, anyone. But I was alone and no one could get me through this but me.
“Our next speaker is the staff manager at the digital marketing firm Mouse Roar,” Andrew said with a half note less enthusiasm than he’d had for everyone else. Despite pressure from Seth, his investigation into the threatening email against me was halfhearted and of course had come up with nothing. “You may remember they used to work for Connoisaurus.”
My jaw dropped a little. If Keenan heard about that, he’d turn into a werewolf. I couldn’t believe Andrew would actually take a dig at us right in my introduction, but it didn’t stop there.
“To tell you all about the importance of equality and empowerment, here’s Sarah Faverly.”
I stood up feeling disoriented, like I’d just been punched in the gut. Maybe other people couldn’t hear it, but the subtext of derision, mocking even, was unmistakable to me. Not to mention that he’d undercut my entire speech. It was as if someone introduced a comedian by spoiling the punchline to her best joke.
I’d meant to smile as I took the stage, but I wasn’t conscious enough to do anything more than step up the stairs and walk across the stage to the podium. Andrew was supposed to either reach out to shake my hand or give me a kiss on the cheek. He did neither, skulking off instead to leave me with all of these eyes.
My presentation’s first slide appeared on the wall behind me all ready to go. All I had to do was utter the first word and everything would get under way. I’d say what everyone expected me to say, I would return to my hotel room and cry, and eventually I’d gloss over the whole experience as that thing I did once that I try not to think about.
I wasn’t going to get rolled by circumstances again. Clearing my throat, I sent a silent prayer that what I was about to say would be even slightly coherent.
“As you can see, the title of my presentation is ‘Collaborating on the Future’, but I’m going to revise that. Instead, this will be called ‘Tell Me Something I Don’t Know’, and I’ll start with myself. I have no business being in front of you to discuss the workplaces of the future. I’ve been in my position for barely a couple of months. Before that I wrote copy. Before that I wrote instruction manuals. Before that I was essentially a professional victim for a while after an attack almost cost me my life.
“All I wanted was to work somewhere where I was appreciated for my talents and not seen as a sex object or fetch-the-coffee girl. I wr
ote a few blog posts about it. Someone at the New York Times saw them and she wrote a favorable piece on me. Someone from this festival saw that, and that’s why I’m here right now.
“Let’s move on to us. Since I’ve arrived in Austin, I’ve been subjected to an anonymous email threatening sexual violence, which you may have heard about. I’ve also been told point blank by a prospective business partner that the partnership will only go through if I meet his demands for sex. How many of you understood how subtly degrading the introduction I received just moments ago was? We all come here with the belief that this forward-looking festival means that we’re enlightened, woke, secure when it comes to how we intersect with the world around us, but that’s so far from the truth. Too often the insights we offer here are meant for other people elsewhere when we should be heeding them ourselves.
“One of the first people I brought in to work with us accused me of discrimination on account of his age when he was unable to do the job and asked to leave. There were valid reasons for him to go, but the thing I’ve never wanted to admit to myself was that his age did strike me negatively the moment I saw him. How could I say anything to you without disclosing that? Or what about how I have offered our employees a workspace focused on their professional capabilities rather than their physicality or personal lives even as I pursued a relationship with my boss? Am I the only one who tries to turn a blind eye to my faults to try to pretend I’m a competent person?
“Taken all together, the uncomfortable conclusion I reach is that when it comes to the future of work, the struggles we undergo today will be there with us tomorrow. Maybe the circumstances will change somewhat, or the language we use to discuss them, but in ten, twenty, or thirty years from now the very same fight will be going on. There will be women who feel taken for granted or ignored. There will be men who take advantage of their positions of power. There will be more victims. There will be attempts to overlook them or silence them.
“Some might think that the nihilist perspective I’m presenting here means that we should give up, but what I want to get across is the complete opposite. The reality is that changing society or changing other people is something that can only be done at a glacial pace, and as important as that is the only way things are going to get better quickly is if we all expend some effort relentlessly policing ourselves.”
I went on like that for a while almost on autopilot. The slides were running behind me, and it must’ve been weird to see a cheerful message displayed about how wonderful it is when everyone pitches in and works together contrast with the words coming out of my mouth about our hypocrisy and ineptitude. Whether the audience was getting anything out of what I was saying was beyond my comprehension.
And then almost on a whim I decided that was enough and stopped talking, nearly mid-sentence. It took the audience a moment to realize I had finished, and a smattering of applause followed. I happened to glance over and see that Darla had her hands folded in front of her. Seth, seated a short distance away from her, was just looking at me. Andrew had apparently left the room while I was speaking, maybe right after I outed his snide introduction for all I knew.
I tilted my head a little in acknowledgement and walked off the stage, tripping on the last step but managing to catch myself with the railing before planting my face into the floor. Safe in my seat seconds later, I wondered if that near-fall was going to be enough to make people think that there was an element of drunkenness to my rant.
Andrew reemerged to give a proper introduction to the next speaker, but I was again lost in my own thoughts. I tried to remember all of the things I’d said, some of which were things I’d felt for a long time but had never had the guts to say out loud before. Even if I hadn’t left my mark on the festival’s history or whatever, I surprised myself with a feeling of pride at what I’d done.
By the time all of the speakers in my group had gone, the afternoon had been completely spent. Most of us were tired and anxious to stretch our legs as they whisked us back down into the convention center’s lower floors for an informal banquet, which the festival’s attendees were welcome to join as well.
I stepped inside and took a position near a dispenser for tea as the doors opened and people began filing in. No one stuck out to me as being one of the occupants in the front row, but I’d been half blinded by the lights and so caught up in what I was saying that I knew I didn’t have a prayer of recognizing anyone.
The same couldn’t be said of Andrew, who all of a sudden appeared at my side with a fruit kabob that he pointed right at me.
“I’d tell you to pack up and hit the road right now, but that would only make it look worse,” he said in a low voice. “But if you feel like airing any more malicious, imaginary grievances tonight or tomorrow during the panel, I promise it won’t be me you’ll be answering to.”
He jerked his head to look over his shoulder, perhaps to see if Seth would again pop up and set him straight. But this time Seth was carrying a plateful of sliced sandwich meat to one of the tables on the other side of the room.
“I’m sorry my safety has been such an inconvenience for you,” I said, causing Andrew to scowl.
“It’s not that at all,” he said. “I think with just some teensy differences all of the conflict you create around you could vanish. I’d be happy to talk about it with you. I’m a master at this stuff.”
I shifted to look him directly in his determined yet fearful eyes. His suit, tie, and goatee seemed deliberately assembled to try to make him look like a man, but they all failed miserably.
“Clearly,” I said. “If you’re a master at that, maybe it’s time you practice something else, like not propositioning women you hate. There are a lot of them out there, I assume, and some might not yet be aware that you’re so desperate to have someone that you’d grovel at the feet of one you just publicly berated under the guise of dispelling conflict. Why not run along and find one?”
Andrew gave me a murderous look before turning his back on me and walking away. Somehow I don’t think we would’ve been happy together. By the time I refilled my tea, I happened to see him talking to Darla. I watched them for a moment, in which time I saw him hand over twenty dollars for a Girl Code pin and her laugh at something he said and graze his sleeve with her hand suggestively and playfully. I could tell she was only playing with him, and at the moment I was all for it.
A few conference attendees and even a journalist spoke with me for a while. People seemed most interested in the possibility that I’d just conjured my speech on the spot, as if expelling words from my mouth one after another for nearly forty-five minutes was an impressive feat few could replicate.
I was obligated to stay for one hour, and during that time I had half a turkey sub, a donut, and a surprisingly good conversation with that older gentleman in our group who had talked about the accelerating pace of technology. He said he’d seen the kinds of biases I was talking about his entire life and had to agree with me that from his perspective they weren’t going to go anywhere soon.
As nice as it was to have a relatively normal conversation with someone, I was ready to go as soon as the hour was up. I wondered if I could manage to move up my flight to tomorrow afternoon right after the panel while I was soaking in the tub.
Without saying goodbye to anyone, I slipped out the door and meandered through the crowd to the convention center’s exits, where a soft, cool breeze brushed the worst of my anxiety off me. The setting sun left hints of red in the sky, and it was tempting to go for a short walk along the river path, but considering I’d spent all day worrying about my safety I couldn’t do anything other than head straight to the Four Seasons.
As I brusquely crossed the hotel’s entryway for the front doors, my head got stuck again in the limbo of Dr. Alex’s advice. Had I acted pro-actively with my improvised speech, or was I simply reacting to Andrew’s criticism and insults? By the time I pulled open the doors, I was ready to jump off the roof if it meant it was something I’d done s
olely of my own accord.
Glancing to the right, I saw Seth at the bar in Trio. His back was to me and he had his suit jacket off and draped over his arm. He must’ve ducked out early to beat me here. I changed direction immediately. This time it was me sidling up to him. He didn’t look over immediately, but I knew he could tell I was there.
“You want to know what I think?”
“What?” I asked as a bartender delivered a rum and coke to him.
“That might’ve been the best speech ever delivered at this festival of phonies and try-hards,” he said.
“Thank you,” I said, even though I was beyond caring what anyone thought about it. But it didn’t hurt that he thought I hadn’t made a fool of myself. My eyes drifted over his strong arms and hands set on the bar.
“Can I…” But I cut him off, not wanting anything to preempt my actions.
“Come upstairs with me.”
We turned away from the bar as if that had been the plan all along, and we progressed toward the elevators at a relaxed pace. My stomach was suddenly in a knot about Keenan, who for all I knew was banging his ex-girlfriend Cassie at this very moment. I felt like I had to scrawl it over the inside of my brain in permanent marker: I’m free to do what I want and right now I want this man.
“Is it true somebody said they were going to come after you when the presentations were over?”
The elevator doors closed in front of us.
“They’d better think twice about it now that you’re here.”
We got off at the fifth floor and walked over to room eighteen. A woman passed by in the hall and smirked knowingly at us. I shrugged slightly to say, why not? Did you look at him? That smoldering face, those big lips, the intense look in his eyes. She nodded her approval. Now that was Girl Code.