#by the feeling of being in an hostile environment who saw her customs and behavior as substantially antithetical to their own view of life

[kendraaleighb]

On Believing Sexual Assault Victims

I don’t feel safe writing this thing on Facebook, so I’m dumping my thoughts here on tumblr which isn’t exactly safer, but the people I fear would react poorly on FB are not here so it’s a better place for me to say stuff sometimes.

Anyways.

I’ve got a couple of stories to tell about some people who have been affected by sexual assault and sexual harassment and how people handled it.

CONTENT WARNING: SEXUAL HARASSMENT AND SEXUAL ASSAULT INCIDENTS DESCRIBED IN DETAIL WITH MENTIONS OF ATTEMPTED SUICIDE BELOW THE READ MORE SECTION. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

Here goes.

Story 1: Setting is Hobby Lobby, in the frame shop. 2017. I had worked at a different location for 3 1/2 years and moved stores because I moved to a different city to attend university. I had been working at this new store for about 6 months when an employee was transferred into the frame shop to cross-train more employees in framing, but it ended up being his permanent department. I had never spoken to him until he was in my department, but the moment he was transferred in, he began to make comments to me, little snide corrections on my framing skills (even though I had been in the custom framing department for nearly 2 years at this point and was clearly very capable of doing my job since I had been assistant department head at my previous store location) and I often caught him watching me as I worked. 

This made me uncomfortable and led to a hostile work environment because I consider myself to be an upfront person and I called him out on the behavior which ranged some days to arguments about whether he was in charge of “giving me permission” to leave for my lunch at my assigned time or the consistent staring as I bent over a table top to place a mat in a frame correctly. I had frequently made it clear to my direct supervisor, who then would pass it along to my store manager. Time and time again the store manager would brush off my complaints by saying “Oh, I thought you guys were flirting, not arguing.”

The final straw came in May 2017. I had been hard at work on putting together a large (60″x60″) shadow box for a pair of antique leather chaps from the early 1900′s. It had taken weeks to get the supplies in and another week for me to attach the chaps to the backboard so they would stand up in the shadowbox and not fall and lean against the glass. It had been taking so long that I finally couldn’t stand in one place any longer and grabbed a chair from the break room to sit in while I worked on the piece. At one point, I stood up to check my work from a different angle when my coworker passed by and proceeded to make a comment. 

“Your period blood is on the chair.”

“Excuse me?” 

“You must have bled through your pants. Look,” 

He pointed to a blotch of dried bright red paint on the chair. Clearly, not blood. I explained this to him and he simply shrugged his shoulders and carried on with his work. But it made me uncomfortable and embarrassed. My body and the way it functions are not subjects I want to talk about with my coworker.

I brought up the comments he made to my supervisor, who again brought them to my store manager. This time, he said he would take steps to reprimand my coworker. But, he warned that he would have to mention who had reported his behavior and that could lead to even more aggressive behavior towards me. I asked that he not mention me as to keep my privacy. My store manager said there was no way around it. He would have to inform him of what exactly he had done to receive the write-up. My store manager said the only way he could keep my privacy is if he didn’t write him up.

So, because I feared retaliation from my harasser, I didn’t report him. A month later, I quit because I no longer felt safe in my workplace.

I consider myself lucky. I was able to get out and away from my harasser and now those memories are unpleasant, but easy enough to avoid and forget about.

Story 2. Setting: My apartment. 2011. 

A new semester had started and I have new roommates at the dorms. My new roommate is quiet and hasn’t said more than 6 words to me since she moved in, but I don’t think anything of it. I don’t know if this is unusual for her or not, so I let her be. After 2 weeks of living together, I come home on a Sunday night to police cars and an ambulance outside my apartment. I wonder if my roommates have any idea what’s going on, so I go inside to find-oh, the cops are at my apartment. 

My quiet roommate is sitting on the couch with a campus police officer next to her while the paramedics check her vitals. My roommate keeps insisting that she’s fine, but clearly she is not. The paramedic says they should take my roommate to the ER anyways because she ingested a large amount of medication. She frets that she’ll have no way to get home after going to the ER with them, so I tell her I will go with her and give her a ride home. 

We go to the hospital, the cops tell me to wait in the waiting room and they’ll tell me when I can go back to see my roommate. After a couple hours I’m finally able to track down the police officer who was sitting with my roommate when I came into the apartment and she gives me the story of what exactly happened earlier that night when I wasn’t home. My roommate had taken large dosages of cold and sleep medicine in order to end her life. The police had only found her because she had called a relative to say goodbye and said relative called the police.

I couldn’t fathom it. I couldn’t understand why someone would want to end their life. I had no idea what could drive someone to that place.

It wasn’t until I was able to get my roommate home from the hospital that I could get the full story. I couldn’t understand, but I wanted to. I waited while she found the words to describe what had happened to her the first week of the summer break, how she had gone to a party with her boyfriend, gotten drunk, and ended up being raped by an acquaintance of her boyfriend. She told me about how she had asked him for a ride home because her boyfriend had left earlier and she knew she was too drunk to drive. I listened to her while she described what happened in minute detail, down to the taste of the dirty sock he shoved in her mouth to stop her from screaming, how her seat belt was choking her while it happened. She told me about how he had sworn if she ever told anyone what happened, he would kill her. And how he dropped her off at home after the incident like nothing had just happened in the parking lot two blocks from her parent’s house. I held her as she fell apart and relived that night. We cried together and I kept saying “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. You didn’t deserve this. It’s not your fault.”  Because I had no idea what else do say. She had never told anyone, not even the doctors or the police what had happened. She didn’t tell her parents, her boyfriend, or even her close friends from home.

She didn’t have any “proof.” Any bruises or marks physically left on her body had disappeared by that point. She didn’t get a rape kit done, so any DNA proof had long been washed off. But the mental scars? You better believe they were there.

We talked about what to do next. I encouraged her to go to the police. See a counselor, do something. Surely someone who had experiences with others dealing with this would know what to do. She decided a few days later she needed to be home that semester to get the help she needed. She moved out by the end of that week.

I listened to her. I believed her. Anyone who had listened to her tell her story should have believed her.

But not everyone did. 

Next time I saw her, she told me about what she had done at home. She told me her boyfriend had broken up with her because of it. He said his friend could never have done something like that and she shouldn’t be able to remember something in such detail if she were drunk. He insisted that she was lying.

She went to the police with her experience but because she didn’t get a rape kit done, there was no physical proof to link him to the crime. Even if they did believe her, there wasn’t enough to prosecute on.

I don’t know if her rapist was ever brought to justice. I don’t know if she gets a good nights sleep these days.

I got lucky. I don’t think she did. Neither of us got justice. I came to peace with that. I don’t know if she can, and I don’t blame her if she can’t.

Believe victims. Listen to victims. We have to be better than this.

[offansandflames]

Home

Sasuke has finally returned to Konoha. Amidst public ridicule, harassment, and disdain, can he still call this place his home? Canon compliant to chapter 698

He thought he remembered, momentarily, why he'd hated this village so damned much. Of course, other than the fact that certain decisions made here had resulted in the massacre of his entire family.

The strident sunshine offered the most cloying cacophony with his current mood, and he was glad to see the sun set. He felt a migraine coming his way, and the bright but waning sunlight was an affront to his vision. After all the abuse he'd put his eyes through in recent years, it was no wonder he was prone to headaches.

He'd just briefly checked in with a rather overtasked Kakashi, as he was scheduled to do this evening. He had only returned to Konoha six weeks ago, so he was kept on a short leash. He was required to report to a given superior daily. After all, they couldn't have him running off again.

In his spare time, he unrelentingly trained for the blessed day he'd finally be entrusted to missions again. He refused to lose his edge. His paid work over the next year was confined to administrative tasks that made him want to smash his head against a wall repeatedly.

He didn't know why he'd chosen to walk through downtown Konoha tonight to return to his house in the newly renovated but still quite vacant Uchiha district. It was the shortest way, but what was an extra fifteen minutes of walking for some solitude and peace? He did need to pick up some groceries, but he was now regretting not going to the smaller and quieter establishment closer to his home.

The area was bustling and well lit. A civilian couple was walking down the street, glaring at him blatantly as they passed. Sasuke kept his eyes in front of him, disregarding the pair completely and confidently. Everyone knew who he was: Uchiha Sasuke, the traitor.

He walked into a mildly crowded grocery store, and he could feel the atmosphere transition from casual and relaxed to tense and hostile. The wailing infant about three aisles over was doing wonders for his migraine, of course. A young girl, with a chubby face and a teddy bear in hand, pointed at him.

"Isn't he the one?" she whispered, just a little too loudly.

Her mother turned to face Sasuke, sneering at him for several seconds as Sasuke stared back at her expressionlessly.

"Yes, that's him," the mother whispered back. "Keep your voice down and don't look at him."

He sighed, rolling his eyes as he moved past the woman and her daughter, whose miniature features mimicked her mother's as she glowered up at Sasuke. It took a formidable supply of willpower not to glare back at the little brat. He grabbed some rice and headed towards the produce section.

And this is what it was like, every day. Every day, the same hushed voices and spewed insults, the same glares, the same hatred… He knew that fighting back would only make matters worse for him. It would engender the villain they so badly wanted to see. It was what they yearned for, putting his behavior under a microscope and scrutinizing for any evidence that he was a sham.

So he lifted his head, refusing to stare at the ground, walking proudly. He knew that this was what they despised most – peaceful dignity. They sought to reveal Sasuke as the criminal they believed him to be, and if they couldn't achieve that, they'd at least settle for humiliating him. His composed and unwavering demeanor rendered both endeavors futile. He had apologized to those who deserved it. He owed these simpletons nothing.

He recognized the cashier when he paid for his groceries: four tomatoes, one kilogram of rice, and a head of lettuce. A small woman, her well-kept grey hair and wrinkles set her apart. She used to smile at him and ask him how his training was going, and if a boy as handsome as he was had still succeeded in keeping away all those pesky girls.

More often than not, she'd have some food items for him that they were "just going to throw away anyhow." Sasuke was, of course, against taking advantage of people's pity, but she insisted upon it. He was getting too thin, she said, and he needed his strength for all of his training. He was such an impressive prodigy, she told him.

She grinned at the customer in front of Sasuke.

"That'll be 285 ryō, dear."

The woman paid and was on her way. Upon seeing Sasuke, that familiar face flattened instantaneously. She glanced at Sasuke, from top to bottom, and flatly announced the total. She grabbed Sasuke's money roughly, her lip rising venomously and perhaps subconsciously as she forced the change into his hand.

"Next," she blurted out, not bothering to give Sasuke his receipt.

It was times like these when Sasuke had to remind himself, yet again, of why he'd voluntarily chosen to return to Konoha. His brother had lived, suffered, and died for this village. He'd lost everything, because to protect this village, Itachi would do anything.

That is, anything but kill him.

The system was flawed, discrimination running rampant and unnecessary killing occurring daily. It was a cycle of bloodshed. Why were children sent to fight and die? Secrets and corruption were locked away. Those people who looked down on him… Had that civilian couple glaring at him earlier ever even seen someone die?

Of course, he couldn't breathe a word of this without someone insisting that he had no right to judge. He was, after all, the same man who betrayed this village to kill, and who would kill anyone who got in his way, including his own comrades. How could someone as blood thirsty as him rally for pacifism?

But he found himself every bit as qualified as anyone else to make such assertions, if not more so. He was a product of that flawed system, though that didn't keep him from accepting responsibility for the damage he’d caused. No one should ever have to go through what he went through. It would never happen again, not in his village, his country. He would see to that personally. And yes, the Fire Country was his country, and Konoha was his village. He wasn't exactly welcome here these days, but this was his home.

Reform was his goal now. Yet to achieve anything, he would need both his teammates' help and the villagers' trust. He knew he had hurt the ones who loved him. But even worse, he’d hurt him. Sometimes it was regret that kept him awake at night. Other times it was loneliness, and still other times it was both.

But the darkness that has consumed him brought light to a rather fortunate strength of his. If he had a goal, he would see it to completion. It didn't matter what anyone had to say about it or what was standing in the way. There was one other man he knew whose determination matched his own. Perhaps this was another reason they understood each other so well. As long as they were breathing, they would never stop pursuing whatever mattered to them.

If it meant achieving this goal, Sasuke would bear the villagers' disdain. It felt so foreign to see all the same faces that once illuminated in his presence glower and hide behind shut doors when he approached.

Sasuke had always been annoyed by the way people used to fawn over him. He was a prodigy, he was handsome, he was a sole survivor, he was "cool," he was strong and talented, he was… A caricature. An object to blindly obsess over rather than an actual person. As they worshipped him, they dehumanized him. He was everything and nothing to them all at once. He was misunderstood. This was still the case, but this time their myopic vision birthed pestilence rather than vacant idealization.

Suddenly, putrid garbage plummeted from a third story window, the considerable height giving Sasuke plenty of time to sidestep.

"Sorry, I thought I saw the trash coming, but it was just you!" some prepubescent boy yelled from the window. Sasuke didn't bother to look up for the culprit, rolling his eyes at the horrible punch line. Whom exactly did this brat think he was dealing with here, trying to clobber one of Konoha's strongest shinobi with such ludicrous aim and timing? Pathetic.

"Littering is a punishable offense," Sasuke called out nonchalantly.

"You're a punishable offense!" the other countered lamely.

Sasuke told himself he didn't care what anyone thought. He had taken the good indifferently, and so he would repeat the same approach with the bad. Both were built on a foundation of ignorance. Yet the same harassment repeated dozens, if not hundreds of times by so many different people was wearing him down.

No matter. He was strong and proud. He would have to be patient, yes. But even if it took years, decades, he would change the world and this rotten system. They would respect him, just like they used to. They would acknowledge him. Accept him.

"My dream is to surpass the hokage, and then have the people of this village acknowledge me!"

Sasuke felt that he now understood why Naruto had been so obnoxiously persistent. When Naruto said this, he had been a child. These past six weeks… Was this really what Naruto's entire childhood was like? It seemed unfathomable. Sasuke was an adult now with quite the sizable ego, and he was facing the consequences of his actions. Honestly, he couldn't blame people for being slow to trust him.

But what must it have been like to endure this hatred from birth, not even knowing why? To have even a morsel of self-esteem after maturing in this environment, Naruto must have been very strong. How could a child, with no guardian and such little guidance, grow up this way?

Even after his return to Konoha, Sasuke still couldn't say he truly understood the weight of Naruto's burden. The day that Naruto's thoughts had been transmitted to the entire shinobi alliance, Sasuke discovered that Naruto deeply regretted not reaching out to Sasuke when they were younger, sharing the same loneliness. Sasuke was experiencing the same regret currently. However, at the time, just like everyone else his age, he'd been clueless.

-    -    -    -

It was Sasuke's first day at academy. He played with several rubber kunai out in the grass during break, only to have some blond kid, about his age, take two of them that he wasn't currently using and run away. Sasuke chased after him, shouting, "Hey, those are mine!"

"Well, I'm Uzumaki Naruto, and I'm gonna be the next hokage!" the thief called back as he ran off. "I need these to train to become hokage, cuz I'm broke." Naruto panted, continuing to run. "But I'll give them back when I'm done!"

Sasuke stopped, figuring it wasn't worth the effort to get back the measly instruments. What a strange and obnoxious child Naruto was. Some hokage he'd make… Sasuke already decided that he didn't like him. That's when an older student approached him, tapping him on the shoulder.

"Hey, you shouldn't talk to that kid."

He was accompanied by a female and one other male student. They appeared to be at most two years above him.

"Why not?"

"Because he's a monster," the leader of the group told him knowingly.

"A monster?"

Sasuke tilted his head, his already wide eyes growing even larger as he quizzically regarded his fellow classmates. Naruto was annoying, yes. But a monster?

"The worst," the girl confirmed, crossing her arms and shaking her head.

"What did he do?"

The other three students glanced at each other for a while, mumbling quietly. The previously silent male spoke.

"We don't know, but whatever it was, it was really bad. Rika, tell him," he said, looking back at the female student.

"My parents told me not to talk to him. I asked my parents why once, and my mom started to cry! Then my dad said, 'It's too bad to even talk about. You're better off not knowing.'"

"That's right. Too bad to even talk about!" the leader told him. "And he's a loser anyway. I'd steer clear if I were you!"

Sasuke remembered this throughout the day. When he got home, his mother immediately started cutting up an orange for him as an afternoon snack. He waited patiently and silently, the only sound in the kitchen being the chopping of his mother's knife on the wooden cutting board. He stood just several feet from his mother's skirt, throwing up his dinosaur plushy and catching it again from time to time. Finally, Sasuke spoke.

"Mom, have you ever heard of a kid named Uzumaki Naruto?"

The knife was stilled.

"Yes. Why?"

"Did he ever do something…terrible?"

"Who told you that?" his mother said, turning around and watching him closely. Her tone changed so abruptly. Was it true that Naruto had done something so horrible?

"Some kids at the academy. They said I shouldn't talk to him because he's a monster."

Mikoto set her knife down and turned to Sasuke. She knelt down, placing one hand on each of Sasuke's shoulders and looking directly into Sasuke's eyes. Her hands were still moist from the fruit that she'd been cutting. Sasuke resisted the urge to gasp, alarmed by his mother's sudden change in demeanor.

"He never did anything like that. Don't pay any attention to what the kids at the academy say. Do you understand me?"

Sasuke bit his lip and looked down before looking back up at his mother again.

"But why…"

"Listen to me, Sasuke… Sometimes people hate what they don't understand. There's nothing wrong with Naruto. You have to trust me. Okay?"

"Hmm…" Sasuke stared towards the ground, appearing to mull the matter over in his mind as he pouted. What was his mother talking about? What about Naruto was there not to understand? And why would people call him a monster? He seemed like just an ordinary kid to him.

"Okay!" he finally answered with a bright smile.

-    -    -    -

He was glad he trusted his mother. He understood now. Yet he had always thought that Naruto had been the one who didn't understand what he'd endured. He remembered the day so clearly when he made that fateful decision to leave his home, to choose revenge over camaraderie.

He knew that nothing Naruto could have said would have made him come back home, but he wished with everything in him that he would have seen how horrible of a mistake he was making. He shouted at Naruto, "You had nothing in the first place! What the hell do you understand about me? Huh?! We suffer because of our bonds. You don't know how it feels to lose them!"

Naruto hadn't lost a family, hadn't been forced to watch them be murdered by the person he loved the most. He hadn't returned to a district full of the bloody corpses of his family and clan members at the fragile age of eight. But Sasuke was young and self-absorbed back then, as the past six weeks had demonstrated yet again. He hadn't understood Naruto either.

And whether Sasuke liked it or not, the treatment Sasuke was receiving currently was not unfounded. It was foolish to compare pasts and pick which one was worse; they were just different. Sasuke didn't believe he could ever understand what Naruto had lived through, just as Naruto couldn't understand what he'd suffered. Yet Sasuke couldn't fathom how Naruto could bring himself to love a village that had treated him so unjustly from the very start.

If Naruto could see past it, then so could he. He'd bear all their hatred until they trusted him, so he could do enough good to repair the damage he'd caused. It was a lofty ambition, but this is what he was fighting for. Righting the wrongs of his past and protecting his home, these same villagers who despised him, from the horrors he'd weathered meant everything to Sasuke. And he would never surrender.

Now Sasuke was walking past a barbecue restaurant, with a large outdoor seating area. The place went by the name of Misako's. The benches were long and wooden, with a roof overhanging them. From the shingled roof hung red and orange lanterns, which had just recently been turned on as the sky began to darken. The denizens were eating boisterously, and it was only then that he noticed a long table that was occupied by a group of his colleagues. Sakura, Sai, Shikamaru, Chouji, Ino, Rock Lee, Kiba, and of course…

"Hey! Hey, Sasuke!"

Naruto was at the closest edge of the bench, leaning back and wildly gesturing Sasuke to join them. He looked like a fool, but Sasuke couldn't deny that it was a pleasant change for someone to actually be glad to see him. Naruto was positively beaming.

Sasuke sauntered up to the table slowly. Sakura waved with a smile as the others continued to peruse their menus. It looked like they'd just arrived, though they'd already started with a few beers.

"Hey, why dontcha eat with us?" Naruto asked. "There's room for one more."

Sasuke had tolerated enough public exposure for the night. He just wanted to go home, dim the lights to soothe his head, cook himself a simple meal, and go to bed. Besides, he hadn't had the best luck at restaurants lately, so he'd resorted to eating all of his meals at home. Just last week, he made the foolish mistake of eating at a hamburger joint. While waiting for his food, he went to the restroom to wash his hands. He was feeling light-headed from a day of intense training and was looking forward to the sustenance.

When he returned to his table, he discovered that someone had spilled his water onto his uneaten burger and the newspaper he'd been reading. He heard several unrelated parties snicker and stifle laughter as he beheld the soggy mess that was once his meal. He didn't bother to ask who was responsible. Why would anyone tell him? And even if he discovered the perpetrator, what could he do about it? The entire restaurant would have sided against him. He paid for his meal and left hungry. He would not allow himself to show his humiliation to the staff and diners. If something like that were to happen in front of all of his colleagues… His pride couldn't allow it.

"I'm already covered," Sasuke answered, gesturing to his bag of groceries.

Not to be dissuaded, Naruto got up from his seat, grabbing Sasuke's bag and examining the contents.

"Excuse you," Sasuke said dryly.

"All you got is vegetables! You call that a dinner?! C'mon, eat with us!"

"Yeah," Kiba added, "Besides, I think we need another sane party to bear witness to the way these females have been flirting with Naruto. It makes you want to vomit."

"Well, Naruto deserves it!" Lee chipped in.

"Oh, Naruto, can I have your autograph?" Kiba mimed, twiddling his finger through an imaginary lock of breast-length hair. "I'm such a big fan!"

"Well, of course," Naruto answered, a full-fledged cheesy grin on his face. "I'm the hero!"

It was a strange role reversal, Sasuke thought. Naruto was Konoha's heartthrob these days, and Sasuke took Naruto's place as the reject. While Naruto was still just as obnoxious as he'd ever been, Sasuke was at least glad that Naruto had finally found the respect he'd so relentlessly fought for his entire life. Sasuke couldn't help but smile inconspicuously, despite his envy. Rock Lee was correct when he said that Naruto deserved it. Sasuke understood this well now.

"Pride comes before downfall, Naruto," Shikamaru noted with a sigh.

"Yeah, little do they know that the first time you beat me in battle, you could only pull it off by farting in my face," Kiba rebutted.

Other than Sasuke, Shikamaru, Naruto, and Sai, who was sitting there with that same eerie smile on his face, they all laughed, perhaps a little louder due to the slight buzz of alcohol.

"That's ancient history!" Naruto yelled, accompanied by some rather dramatic arm gestures. "Stop bringing that up, unless you want me to start calling you dog breath again."

"That was so foul that I'll never forget it for the rest of my life. And neither will you!"

"They also don't know about your microscopic penis," Sai stated, his smile never leaving his face.

It seemed that Naruto could count on his friends to keep his ego in check.

"Hey now, Sai… You've all seen me at the baths. Who do you think you're fooling?"

Kiba and Ino began to laugh, Shikamaru simply shaking his head.

"I'm surprised at both of you!" Lee remarked. "Well, maybe not Sai so much, but Naruto, we are in the presence of two lovely ladies!"

Lee gestured to Sakura and Ino, and if Sasuke didn't know any better, he thought he saw Sakura blush. Or maybe it was just the beer.

"Seriously, Sasuke. I wanted to talk to you about some new medical jutsu I've been looking into. It's really fascinating. I thought you'd be interested. I'm sure you have an hour or so to spare," Sakura added brightly.

Sasuke sighed. He knew what this was. They thought he was lonely, and honestly, they were right. Why else would they be so persistent? They knew what talk was spreading around the village. It was no secret that his return was, in general, poorly received.

He’d cut off everyone he’d ever known and love for years. He didn't need anyone's help. But he was at least grateful that the lot of them cared enough to offer it.

"Yeah! You have to eat with us! It's so much more fun when you have a lot of people!" Lee pursued.

He didn't need their sympathy. He could make do on his own, just like always. Still… They all seemed so happy and genuinely pleased to see him. He'd seen Naruto and Sakura quite a few times since returning, but never in a situation like this. He also hadn't gotten the chance to interact much with his colleagues outside of Team 7. Maybe the change in pace would improve his morale.

"Fine," Sasuke sighed, taking a seat at the very edge of the table, on Naruto's left side. He neatly set his groceries under his seat. Kiba was sitting on Naruto's right side, and Sakura was directly across from Sasuke now, also at the edge of the bench, with Sai by her left side. Rock Lee, Shikamaru, Chouji, and Ino were on the opposite end of the bench. Naruto wrapped his arm around Sasuke's shoulder and pat his back roughly.

"There ya go. See, was that so hard? I knew you had it in you."

Even that casual touch made him want to smile considering the hostility of his surroundings, but he subdued it.

"Don't make me regret it, knucklehead."

Naruto guffawed, perhaps a little past buzzed but certainly not drunk.

"You haven't changed a bit, ya know that?"

Nothing could be farther from the truth, actually, but he was still glad to hear Naruto say it.

"That's my line," he responded.

"Here's the menu," said Ino, who was looking particularly done up tonight. Her lips were glossed with a light pink, a slight curl to her hair. Sakura, Naruto, and Lee, however, looked just slightly unkempt and were dressed for training. Considering that this was a casual restaurant, they didn't stand out.

Ino handed the menu to Sasuke, who started flipping through the pages. He'd get something simple. Miso soup and a salad, perhaps. And just maybe, if the night went well enough, he'd order sake a little bit later on. He'd wait to gauge the situation more carefully before committing himself, as he felt the need to be on guard at all times.

They didn't take much longer to decide on their orders, since most had already partially decided by the time Sasuke sat down. A slender young woman, perhaps in her early twenties, with dark almond-shaped eyes, soft skin, and a white outfit walked over to take their order. She looked around at the table, taking a quick head count, and… She stopped cold at Sasuke.

"I'm sorry," she said curtly. "But I can't serve your friend."

"What?" Naruto asked, tilting his head in disbelief.

The rest of the table hushed. Of course. He'd been stupid to hope for anything else. He'd been dumb to hope for just a nice dinner with some old friends, bickering, and the familiar small talk. Something had to go wrong. The sooner he could get out of here, the better.

"I'd be glad to take all of your orders once he leaves," she stated, venom in her tone. "I want him out of this restaurant."

This had the potential to get ugly quickly, so Sasuke stood, reaching for his groceries.

"That works out for both of us, then," Sasuke told her snidely. "I wasn't hungry anyway."

Sasuke turned to step away, embarrassed but hiding it expertly.

"Later, guys," he said, leaving his friends as he flicked them half wave.

But Naruto's hand clutched onto his arm, jerking him back. No, not this. This was possibly his last chance to leave with his dignity intact. He prayed that Naruto wouldn't fire off and draw everyone's attention to the matter with one of his patented soliloquies.

"No," Naruto said, his voice severe and almost guttural. "This is wrong. You can't treat Sasuke like this. I won't allow it!"

No such luck, Sasuke assessed. Dammit, he didn't need Naruto to stick up for him. He tugged away from Naruto, who merely tightened his grip. Please, not another one of his speeches…

"Naruto, it's fine. Like I said, I'm not even hungry."

"It's not fine! Why won't you serve him?" Naruto asked, ignoring Sasuke's protests.

"People like him are not welcome at Misako's," she maintained.

"People like him?! You think you know him? You could never understand Sasuke!" Naruto was shouting now, enraged, causing the other diners and even numerous people walking down the street to stare.

"You're causing a scene, dumbass!" Sasuke hissed, only loudly enough for Naruto and perhaps Sakura and Kiba to hear. Despite himself, he was mortified, and he'd rather be just about anywhere but here. "Drop it already."

Naruto once again ignored him, as Sasuke had honestly expected him to do.

"You know nothing about him, and yet you choose to hate him?!"

Naruto's voice cracked as he spoke, and Sasuke understood now. Naruto was speaking so passionately because he knew exactly how Sasuke felt. The words could have just as easily been spoken of Naruto throughout his childhood. Perhaps, back then, he'd hoped someone would have stood up for him and said the same thing. He was avenging the wrong he'd received throughout his own lifetime by defending his friend from the same.

"I know enough. I know that he's a traitor."

Sasuke kept his head up, not averting his eyes from the waitress. He wouldn't give her the satisfaction of seeing him fluster, and he wouldn't let his friends see it either.

"You have no idea what Konoha put Sasuke through! I know he made some mistakes, but what's that got to do with him eating here? You can't just treat people like this!" Naruto's eyes were watering, his voice almost choking off as he continued to yell. Everyone was staring at Naruto now, some in shock. But their table… By the look on their faces, Sasuke could tell that Naruto's friends understood exactly why this upset Naruto so much. "It's wrong!"

Sasuke knew there was no stopping Naruto now. There was no telling him to "calm down." He stopped resisting. This was for Sasuke, yes. But it was also for Naruto. They called Sasuke a traitor just like they'd called Naruto a monster.

"I don't care what happened or what anyone has to say! Sasuke was my best friend before, and he's my best friend now!"

Naruto grasped his hand tightly, and Sasuke became so acutely aware of his own heartbeat and breathing. Time after time, Naruto shocked him by just how far he would go for him. It didn't matter if Sasuke laughed in his face, took advantage of him, or tried to kill the ones he loved most, including the pink-haired kunoichi sitting directly across from him.

According to Naruto, he was never anything but a friend. Sasuke always used to tell himself that, in general, he had been a very unlucky person. But he felt so fortunate to have someone like Naruto as a friend.

Naruto stood, his hand still clasped with Sasuke's.

"So if you won't serve him tonight, I'm never eating at your restaurant again!

Now it wasn't only their table that hushed. Several adjacent tables had silenced as well to watch the spectacle. Some people walking down the street had even stopped to stare. Even Sasuke was baffled at this point, the villain standing up hand in hand with the so-called "hero of Konoha."

He realized the dilemma this woman was in. If Naruto, such a well-respected and admired member of the community, boycotted the restaurant, it would be horrible for business. She stared vacantly, trying to plot her next move when Sasuke heard a menu slam against the tabletop.

"The same goes for me."

It was Sakura now, standing abruptly, her voice strong and confident.

"I have no interest in a restaurant that discriminates amongst its patrons."

Rock Lee was quick to follow.

"Not all of the barbecue ribs in the world are worth seeing a friend getting treated like this. Sasuke, you said that you want to change the system, just like Naruto, right? I believe in you!"

Four were standing. Sasuke couldn't believe it. Even coming from Naruto, he was shocked. But Sakura, and even Lee? Lee was always quick to assume the best of people, but still… Sasuke couldn't hide his shock when Lee said that he believed in him.

Ino was next.

"This is a no brainer. This place is so bad for my diet."

"This place is out of my way," Shikamaru added with a sigh as he leisurely stood. "It'd be a bother to come back anyway."

Ino and Shikamaru too? How could they stand up for him like this, after what he'd done to them? After all the trouble he'd caused?

"Well shit…" Kiba sighed. The waitress looked paralyzed, unable to speak. "Sasuke, you dick, you got practically all my friends to swear off this restaurant. I have no reason to come here anymore either."

"I don't like barbecue," Sai said with a voice far too chipper for the situation, standing with the rest.

Everyone at the entire table was standing now, save for one person: Chouji.

Chouji stared at his lap, his brows knit tightly, fiddling with his clothing. He appeared to be in deep thought. Sasuke recalled that Misako's served Chouji's favorite barbecue pork ribs. He said that no other place could compete. His father ate here. His mother ate here. His grandparents ate here. His entire clan! And when they ate at Misako's, they ate a lot. He probably wished that he could become invisible, but his size made him an especially poor candidate for this. Yet finally, he did stand.

"To deny a man food is the ultimate sin! I cannot tolerate it! I, too, will never eat at this restaurant again if you refuse to serve Uchiha Sasuke tonight. And I won't stop there! I will tell my mother. I'll tell my father. I will tell the entire Akimichi clan that Misako's is an establishment that discriminates wantonly when…"

If Naruto's defection was bad for business, what of the entire Akimichi clan? That could potentially put them out of business. Every last occupant of their table was now standing. An older man, wearing the same white garb as the waitress, quickly ran over to the table. Chouji's defiance seemed to be what caught his attention.

"Excuse me, I'm the manager. What's the problem here?"

"This woman here said Sasuke has to leave the restaurant!" Naruto answered, angrily pointing at the waitress.

The manager paused for a moment, glancing at every member of the table and then at his offending employee.

"On behalf of everyone at Misako's, I thoroughly apologize for this very unfortunate experience."

"But!" the waitress interrupted.

"Megumi, if you would like to continue your employment at Misako's, I strongly suggest that you hold your tongue," the manager replied sternly.

That appeared to be enough to get the waitress to relinquish her quest, storming off in a huff. Sasuke was uncertain where the manager's real feelings truly lay. Naruto's boycott would influence his many, many supporters to do the same, and the Akimicihi clan indubitably accounted for a large chunk of their business. The possibility of this place going belly up was becoming quite real. The manager's reaction was just good business sense. But Naruto always told Sasuke that he was far too cynical. Maybe the man really did just find the situation unfair. Sasuke was often given poor service, but rarely was he refused service at all.

"Again, I am so, so sorry for this experience. All of your meals are complimentary, and I personally will see that every dish served at this table is not tampered with in any way."

Naruto let out a barely satisfied "hmf", plopping back down into his seat. The others returned to their seats as well, though more gracefully. Sasuke's heart was hammering as he finally rested down on the bench, his palm sweaty. He could hardly believe what just happened. These weren't just his colleagues. These were his friends. Naruto wasn't the only one who would stick by him. Sasuke was determined not to let them down.

"So, what would you all like to order?" the manager asked with a smile.

He wrote all orders down in perfect detail, paling a little bit at Chouji's broad selection of menu items. Even for Chouji, it was a rather large order, but after all, it was free. Perhaps the manager was feeling a regretful of his decision to supply the entire table with free food. At last, he left to fill their orders.

"Nice going, Uchiha," Kiba said, his sharp canines showing as he smiled. "You scored us free eats! We should invite you more often!"

Sasuke smirked, the table quiet once again. He bowed his head slightly, speaking just loudly enough so that everyone at the table could hear.

"Thank you, everyone."

And with that rather awkward start began a night Sasuke would remember for years. There was enough sake, beer, and barbecue to feed Chouji's entire family. They laughed, reminisced, and bantered. Sasuke left with a stomach full of food and a smile on his face.

Instigating reform and acclimating to his old village would be difficult, yes.

But this was his home, and he knew quite well now that he was not alone.

[zeroviraluniverse-blog]

Weinstein-Wary Businesses Updating Employee Dating Policies

Visit Now - http://zeroviral.com/weinstein-wary-businesses-updating-employee-dating-policies/

Weinstein-Wary Businesses Updating Employee Dating Policies

It happens in so many workplaces — two colleagues begin a romantic relationship. But a heightened awareness about sexual harassment means small business owners can get more anxious when employees start dating. Many owners have consulted with employment attorneys or human resources professionals since the accusations against movie executive Harvey Weinstein in November. Some owners have created or updated their policies on dating and sexual harassment, and they’re making sure staffers know the rules and to speak up if they feel harassed. Bosses who in the past just watched with interest as a relationship blossomed are being proactive, telling couples that if the romance sours, both people are expected to behave appropriately. And some owners are even asking couples to sign statements acknowledging that their relationship is consensual. Sammy Musovic has seen many romances — and breakups — at his three Manhattan restaurants. After the reports about Weinstein and others, Musovic consulted with an attorney to understand what his legal liability could be if an employee relationship led to harassment charges. He decided against changing his policy that allows dating, but he’s keeping a closer eye on interactions between employees. “When I know staffers are dating, I speak to each of them in private and just try to understand the situation,” says Musovic, who owns Sojourn, Vero Bar and Selena Rosa. A few years ago, a manager at one of his restaurants dated a hostess, and became jealous when he saw her chatting with customers. “I told them, `You guys have to stop this or someone’s going to have to find another job,”’ Musovic recalls. The manager quit. On another occasion, Musovic fired an employee who wrote unwanted love letters to a co-worker.

Setting Expectations

Jacqueline Breslin, an executive with HR provider TriNet, is fielding more questions from businesses that want to know how to handle employees dating. The first step is often to determine whether companies have policies on dating and sexual harassment; if not, they need to be written. Dating policies should set expectations for staffers’ behavior, such as that emotions should not be displayed at work. Policies must also address issues like relationships between supervisors and subordinates. Some owners might be tempted to ban employee relationships altogether. But people attracted to one another may still date on the sly. And strict policies can backfire — talented employees may choose love over a job and leave. Problems can also arise when employees want to date clients or vendors. Those relationships have the potential for conflicts-of-interest as well as harassment issues. Ashley Hunter’s dating policy rules out relationships between her eight staffers and vendors of HM Risk Group, an insurance company based in Austin, Texas. “If you’re in a billion-dollar business, you can weather those problems, but I can’t,” she says. Hunter is especially sensitive to issues around dating co-workers, having been in a romantic relationship with her chief financial officer for three years. He’s worked at the company for nine months, and everyone at the company knows of their relationship. One option for owners is to have dating staffers sign what’s called a relationship contract, stating they’re in a consensual relationship and that they’ve read and will abide by the company’s written policy on sexual harassment. Kate and Doug Hickey had two employees at Honolulu-based coffee grower Sunshower Farms — a supervisor and subordinate — who began a relationship in 2013. They had the couple sign a contract saying if the relationship ended and they couldn’t work together comfortably, one would have to resign. “We did this mainly to protect ourselves” in the event of a breakup, says Kate Hickey, who was an attorney and drafted the contract. The couple eventually married and moved away. If a similar situation arises again, Hickey says she would probably consult an attorney who has more expertise about sexual harassment and draft a “more detailed” contract. Many bosses may not even be aware of a relationship until someone mentions it. HR professionals say an owner should approach the couple, discuss the situation, and if the company requires a relationship contract, have them sign it. More complicated is when an owner suspects there’s an attraction or budding relationship — when’s the right time to step in? There’s no one answer, but a boss should certainly talk to the employees when it’s clear there’s a romantic connection. A greater concern is what to do if the romance ends. As long as there’s no sign of a problem, the boss should respect everyone’s privacy. But if one person keeps pursuing another, an owner needs to be on alert. “The person who’s repeatedly asking for an unwanted date needs to be told, `This is against company policy and we don’t tolerate this kind of harassment,”’ says Michael Schmidt, an employment attorney with Cozen O’Connor in New York. Even if unwanted contacts take place off the company’s premises or on social media, a boss needs to intervene, Schmidt says. Businesses can be liable if they don’t address potential harassment because employees might feel they’re in a hostile working environment, Schmidt says. Even business owners who have been part of workplace romances say they’re warier now. Marianne Bertuna was an intern and then an associate in Arthur Aidala’s small New York law firm, starting in 1997. Aidala was attracted to her, but told himself, “This is a work person and nothing is going to happen.” He married someone else. Meanwhile, two attorneys who were dating joined the firm and eventually married. But now, Aidala says that if any employees start a relationship, he would tell them, “You need to proceed with caution because there are a lot of lives on the line here.” And Aidala himself? He got divorced, and he and Bertuna became a couple. In 2016, they got married.

Copyright 2018 Associated Press. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed.

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[lapinintimae-blog]

3-24-17

My mind is bogged/stunted by the onslaught of this past year’s happenings and trying to formulate a place to start, so yackitty shmackitty I’m just gonna jump into it.

I finally relented to talking to someone about my work circumstances and the two women in particular who seem to delight in my mockery and ridicule. It’s been some time since, but to recount, the last straw was when I was working my closing shift with the manager. 

Towards closing time, I had a mother and daughter ask to make a payment on their credit cards. Despite English not being their first language, it was still generally easy to understand what they were asking for. As it turned out, however, they were looking to make payments on three different credit cards- so I had to ask for I.D. and make sure the information I was working with was in the clear. Because the manager didn’t know this (and I was taking a little longer than usual to take care of them/see them on their way out), however, her assumption was that I didn’t know what I was doing. She barely caught wind of the last of our conversation, along the lines of “Not seventy-such... fifty dollar. Only fifty. Thank you.”

So she side-steps her way in front of me before I make any changes with an abrupt, “Here, I’ll take care of it”, voids my progress entirely and processes the third card payment. After the duo left the store, she proceeded with her snide undercutting- shaking her head, repeating herself. “You have to void out the transaction, etc.” Before I get a chance to explain myself, she laughs at me. “The customer’s not gonna tell you to void the transaction out.”

I waited as patiently as I could through nine months of this bitter, needless behavior, and finally I gave up that night. I kept my mouth shut, nodded with a quiet, “Okay”, and resumed my closing procedures without saying anything else. As soon as I got home, I scanned through my business email for the number for Human Resources and left Randy a message. 

The conversation wasn’t kept entirely confidential; Somewhere, someone blabbed, they told the store manager and then one of the two managers came up to me later with hinting jabs. “You know, in case you’re bored,” she said four or five times, a word she doesn’t at all commonly use in her vocabulary. Either she was looking to satisfy herself by treating my like I was oblivious and I didn’t know what she was hinting at (like usual), or she wanted me to know that she was made aware that I didn’t roll over this time like a kicked puppy.

I smiled and chuckled it off (like usual), knowing I wouldn’t contact HR in the future if ever I needed help- I was given the complete opposite. Perhaps I should have known better, though. The company will direct you to their HR representative to cover their bases and protect themselves from liabilities, not because they personally want to help you. I felt trapped again, but at least the district manager now knew my plight. Still, in a phone conversation the following week with her, she tried to convince me that perhaps I was over-psychoanalyzing the entire situation. Much like I had previously, I smiled and laughed politely through the conversation in feigned agreement.

About a week afterward, I happened to be working with both managers at once. While tasking, I happened to look up and see the (previously assistant) manager’s discomfort. She was rubbing her hip/thigh. “You feeling okay?”  “I don’t know, my leg has been hurting me today. It feels like a pinched nerve or something every time I step.” “How do you usually sleep..?” “Oh, I sleep on my side.” Before I say anything else, the other manager cuts in. “Maybe it’s sciatica.” Her tone was cold, blunt. P.a.m.’s eyes widen a bit and she cracks a smile before she starts laughing. They’re literally mocking me for my potentially debilitating condition I once had to take two weeks off for.

I’m sure p.a.m. (previous assistant manager, I’ll call her) saw my concerned expression change to something more indignant. The entirety of it all was absolutely ridiculous as though I were violently thrust back into pubescent melodramatic middle school culture. Again, I shut off and finished my shift before pulling out the desk book and jotting down the store manager’s number. After coming home and leaving her a voicemail (something to the effect of calmly stating,”I was just hoping to catch you the soonest we both work together. I’m ready to talk.”), she immediately returned the call. We agreed the day after we would talk in the back room.

God bless her, she’s a patient and understanding leader. She gave me every minute I needed to thoroughly discuss my concerns, brief her on my disorders and how they relate to the situation, and recount the things they both said and did against me that made my work environment hostile and intimidating from the start. Not once did she try to shut me down like the district manager. She took notes, gave investigative responses when the floor was opened, and thanked me for finally coming to her. “You’re one of my best, and I need you to know that. I need you here. You’re really good-- reaaally good with customers, and I’m sorry you had to hear those things. When the district manager comes Monday (two days from then), she and I are going to talk about this with <manager>.”

Interestingly enough, the morning I came in ready to talk to my store manager, the manager primarily behind stipulating these things had the dreariest look on her face. ...? Whether or not she was putting on an act or it had to do with something that seemed to slip from her mouth early on in my employment (”I can’t lose this job, I don’t know what I’d do...”), I don’t know. Either way, almost ten months had passed and her antagonizing and condescending, passive aggressive, distant corrective, jabbing tactics did not relent. I gave her time. I opened the floor for discussion to try to befriend her. I did what I could to absolve whatever resentment or personal mystery vendetta she had towards me-- for whatever reason unbeknownst to me-- and she did not want that. I don’t feel guilty; I did nothing wrong.

Things seem to be calming down now. I think she recognizes that I’m still trying to be polite and strike up small talk with her now and then, and that I really don’t want to hold anything against her. Whatever her motivations against me were, I have no idea, whether they were personal life issues or if I just happened to rub her the wrong way. My store and district managers were both made aware of this during my conversations with each of them, and I think perhaps that helped save the latest circumstance.

That’s about the gist of work’s more recent happenings. Christmas passed in a dizzying blur of emotions. I struggled through the last seven or eight months with depression, dissociation, being suicidal.. By the time we reached the end of January, I took solace in knowing I survived and that so much time and physical distance had parted me well away from Sharlene, Richard, Sarah, Sherman, Deanna.. I felt relief that I didn’t have to absorb mental trauma any longer. Liberating is the first word that comes to mind. 

I’m rather proud that I’ve learned to stand up for myself. All of the things that seemed like distant dreams into my late teens- everything from driving, to working, to socializing and making close friends- normal things, really.. I’m doing it all now. I’ve graduated, I have a car and take myself to and from work, I’m cooking for myself with the food I purchased with the money I earned, I have a godly husband that loves me tenderly and takes care of me very well. Each of these seemed so impossible, because I had such an extremely low sense of self-worth. Adonai reminds me that it’s quite the contrary and that with Him, nothing is impossible.

With a hush whisper gently stirring in my heart, I could hear God. “I’m going to build you a spine..” And now, after having withstood the pain and trials, I can feel his hands lifting mine. 

“Now, I am going to make you stand.”