Some time ago, I wanted to quit a job. It’s not that easy to break a job contract.
After a few months in a terrible working place, I really wanted to leave. It was beyond toxic. I didn’t feel safe. It reached a point when I had to ask people to accompany me as I was walking inside the buildings for I had been assaulted and had been threatened of more.
Some employees were on sick leave. Rumours had it that it was because of the same problems as the one I was facing, but I couldn’t be sure. Anyway I wanted to leave, but I was bound by a contract.
One of the best way to get help on your working place is to get in touch with the union representative. I trusted him. However I found much more than I would have ever imagined.
The union representative offered me to meet him in a different town, in a café, on the sea-front. I initially thought that it was a good idea, less gossips, less problems. He examined my job contract, and kindly explained my rights and duties. And then started talking about our relationship, us, and how in love he was, and that of course he would keep it well hidden from his wife.
I think that for one moment the world stopped spinning. Everything went black. The shock was too intense. I had never ever expressed any romantic feelings for that man – and for good reason, I wasn’t feeling anything apart from extreme sideration at his enamoured logorrhea.
I requested his help. He was the port of call.
He started stalking me on Facebook. Created sockpuppet accounts. He kept repeating that he wanted to “lie down on the comet” – meaning sex.
I ended my contract. He went on. I deactivated my Facebook account. Peace at last.
There are a couple of thick lines between courtship, seduction attempts nuisance, and sexual harassment in the work place. I think he crossed them all.
Never contacting a union representative again.