I suppose it really started two years ago when I was working for a small community newspaper in Colorado. It was the holiday season and, as in a lot of places, when the holiday season arrived the offices take on a gay, festive air. Banners and posters appear, Christmas cards get pinned up on cork memo boards and desks suddenly sprout scented candles and candy dishes. It was a candy dish that did it; a candy dish and Dove dark chocolate individually wrapped squares.
I love the ladies. Can't help it. I've been attracted to the fairer sex for as long as I can remember and I have a pretty damned good memory. I remember playing 'doctor' with Nancy Neubert at an age I won't mention and that was just the start of my life long quest to look at the female form in its naked state. If I couldn't get their clothes off of them it didn't matter because I got as much pleasure out of looking at them fully clothed. A woman in a skirt or dress wearing high heels got to me just as much as a naked lady wearing only a smile. It was a jones of the highest order.
There is a term or someone like me. Some use it as a derogatory term, but I have always considered it a badge of honor. That term is "Dirty Old Man" and I have been a Dirty Old Man since I was eleven years old. As with most Dirty Old Men my love for the ladies manifested itself in the way I looked at them; openly and completely above board. No sneaky peeks or surreptitious glances for me, I looked and I appreciated and I didn't hide it one little bit.
The other thing I had in common with most Dirty Old Men was that I was a terrible flirt. I complimented the ladies on their looks; I made 'soft' passes at them and jokingly asked them to abandon their husbands, fiancés and boyfriends and take up with me. I remembered their birthdays and on Valentine's Day and Sweetest Day I gave them cards, flowers and candy - all of them! There were six women working in the office and I flirted with all of them equally. But, as Orwell stated in Animal Farm, "Even though all pigs are equal some pigs are more equal than others" and that held true for the ladies in our office. Even though I treated all of them equally Jennifer always got a little bit extra. If all the girls got flowers, Jen's bouquet was always just a little bit bigger. If everyone got candy, Jen's box was just a tad more expensive. Jennifer always got 'just a touch' more.
Jennifer was about five foot five, maybe 125 pounds and she had blonde hair that fell in waves to her shoulders. She had that healthy California girl look about her, like she spent all of her free time on the beach working on a tan. I didn't know whether the tan came from a tanning bed or from her lying out in her backyard, but it didn't matter where it came from on her it looked great. Jennifer had a beautiful smile and her eyes sparkled when she looked at you and gave you the full 'wattage' but her best features were all south of the border, so to speak. She had a fantastic ass and a spectacular walk that made it look like two melons rolling around in a gunny sack and I do not believe that there is a man alive who wouldn't stop whatever he was doing to look when she walked by. The sight was marvelous when she wore skirts and dresses and absolute stupendous when she wore slacks.
But to me anyway, her absolutely best features were her long legs and sexy feet and don't think for one minute that she didn't know it. A lot of ladies would go to nail salons or beauty parlors once a week to get their fingernails done and Jennifer did that too, but Jen also got her toenails done. Blood red polish with little designs that changed from week to week and she also wore toe rings. She always wore strappy high heeled sandals that displayed her toes. Even in the winter. If she had to wear boots to work because of snow she always changed into high heeled sandals once she got to work.
Upstairs Jennifer was a little shortchanged as she wasn't much better than flat-chested, but who cared about the upstairs when the downstairs was so outstanding. It did not hurt one bit that I was a dyed in the wool ass and leg man with a foot fetish and that high heels had always been a major turn on for me. Her husband was one lucky guy. The bottom line of course was that while the other women were equal, Jennifer was just a little more equal when it came to my attention.
It was two weeks before Christmas and I was on my way from the pressroom to the circulation manager's office and as I passed Jennifer's desk I noticed that the candy dish setting next to her computer monitor was full of Dove dark chocolate squares. I filed the information that she liked Dove dark chocolate away for future reference and went on to my meeting with the circulation manager.
Over the next several days I noticed the level in Jennifer's candy dish going down and it gave me an idea. One night when I was doing my grocery shopping at Safeway I bought six bags of the Dove dark chocolate squares. I start at six in the morning but the office people don't get in until seven-thirty or quarter to eight so the office was empty when I got there the next morning and filled Jennifer's candy dish. Over the next three weeks I kept Jennifer's candy dish topped off, but I never let her or anyone else in the office know that it was me doing it.
The day after New Years Day when I got to work the candy dish was gone. Okay, no candy dish so we just shifted gears. Every morning when I got to work I would put two of the chocolate squares in the center of her desk pad. For the next two weeks I left two squares a day on Jennifer's desk and as far as I knew no one knew it was me. And then one day as I was passing Jen's desk she stopped me and asked me why I was leaving candy on her desk every day. I asked her what made her think it was me and she told me that one of the ladies on the night cleaning crew had seen me putting the candy on her desk. Busted, I told her I was leaving them because I was having fun being the mystery "Candy Fairy." She thanked me for the thought, admitted that she was a chocoholic and just loved dark chocolate. She also admitted that she had spent a lot of time trying to figure out who the candy man was.
Since I had been 'discovered' I stopped putting candy on her desk when I got to work. What I did instead was that every time I went up to the front office I would put a piece of candy on her desk as I went by. Three weeks went by and then one morning as I was leaving a piece of candy she said that she really needed to give up chocolate and switch to something like carrot sticks or celery. I asked why and she told me that she and her husband were going on a cruise and she needed to lose five pounds so she would look good in her bikini. The next day when I passed by her desk I left a sandwich bag with four carrot sticks in it. The next day it was a couple of pieces of celery and the day after that a handful of grapes. I did that for the next week until she left for her cruise and the day she got back I started leaving the dark chocolate again.
Three days later the production manager came and got me and said that I was wanted in the front office. I followed him and he led me into the Human Resource manager's office and closed the door. As soon as I saw that it was the HR manager's office we were going into I knew that it wasn't going to be a pleasant visit. I didn't like Jill and she knew it. On her part she thought I was disrespectful to management and I needed to be put in "my place." Shortly after she had been hired to replace the HR manager who had resigned she came out into the shop and handed me a list of things she wanted done and then told me that she "Expected to have them done by the following Friday." Her tone of voice and her "I am a manager and you are a peon" attitude pissed me off so I looked at the list, laughed and handed it back to her and told her if she expected it to be done by Friday she had better get busy.
"And just what is that supposed to me?"
"I don't work for you and nothing on that list is covered in my job description. You want it done, do it yourself."
"You are being insubordinate."
"No I'm not. You are not in my chain of command. I work for the production manager and he falls under the circulation manager. You aren't anywhere in the chain."
"Well we will just see about that" and she stomped away.
I found out later that she went to the circulation manager and complained and said she was going to put a letter of reprimand in my file. The circulation manager told her she was out of line and to stay the hell out of his shop without checking with him first. Things had been 'cool' between us ever since.
Jill had me sit down and then she told me that a harassment complaint had been filed against me by Jennifer. Jennifer had accused me of giving her unwanted attention and that I had refused to stop when she had asked me to. I hotly denied the charge. I admitted to the attention part, but stated that she had never asked me to stop and had never given me any indication that the attention bothered her and that if she wanted me to stop all she ever had to do was ask.
I was told that the complaint was going to go in my file and that I was to stay away from Jennifer. I was told that even if we passed each other in the parking lot I should look the other way and not even say "hello" or "Good morning" or anything at all. Then Jill handed me the complaint and told me to sign it and I told her no. She said, "Sign it or I will have to terminate you." I was just getting ready to tell her to stick it up her fat ass when the production manager stepped in and told me to go back to work. As I closed the office door behind me I heard the production manager tearing into her. Bottom line was that I still had a job at the end of the day.
.... There is more of this story ...