| Biographical Non-Fiction posted August 7, 2013 | Chapters: |
...9 10 -11- 12... 
|
  |
Problems arise during a new work situation.
A chapter in the book Chasing the Elusive Dream
An Awkward Situation
by BethShelby
The week after Susan's funeral, Evan and I spent some time on a practically deserted Island in the Gulf. We walked the sand dunes and grieved our loss, comforting each other and vowing to have another child as soon as possible. Possible would be sooner than either of us expected.
Returning to Jackson, I found an ad in our local paper for a commercial artist. I arranged an interview and got the job. It was with a large glass company located a few miles out from the city.
The art department was in a small building away from the executive offices. It was composed of an office, an art room, a darkroom, and a restroom. The office walls were lined with shelves containing printed soda bottles, jelly glasses, and many other types of printed glass. The art room was equipped with two large drawing tables, file cabinets, and art supply cabinets. Another small building near the art department housed a silk screen department, and still another larger building had an engineering and die-making department.
The head of the art department was the only other artist. Floyd had worked there for around twenty years. He was in his late fifties, about 6' 2" with graying hair, glasses, and an engaging smile. He was kind and sympathetic upon learning I'd just lost my first child. I'd never done darkroom work before, so the mixing of chemicals and use of enlargers and cameras required some hands on training. Floyd had always had a male artist working with him before, so working with a girl was a new experience for him. I guess the head of the personal department failed to considered the fact that putting a female in such a private situation with only one man wasn't a smart idea.
Floyd was older than my father, and it never occured to me that he might want to be more than a mentor and friend. He loved to talk and was a good listener, when I had things to share. One thing he revealed was that he'd had problems with alcohol, but he indicated he'd gotten it under control. He didn't drink at work, so I didn't give it much thought. Twice a day, he'd go into the break room, make coffee, and call me over to join him. An engineer, named Brad, usually joined us as well. To me, Floyd seemed like an understanding uncle or surrogate father figure.
After a month on the job, I realized the desire Evan and I had for another baby was coming true. I was pregnant again. We were thrilled, but we decided to let it be our secret until it started to become obvious. I was nearly six months along, when I let the company know I would be leaving to have a baby. Management said they had gotten good reports on my work and wanted me to return to my job as soon as possible after the baby came. Although I bearly knew them, the girls in the main office surprised me with a baby shower.
A few days before Christmas, Floyd brought a bottle of vodka to work. Brad, who blushed easily, was over sharing a drink with Floyd. I didn't drink, but I did have a tiny bit of vodka in my coke. Suddenly Floyd got up and walked around the desk to me and said, "Holidays are a time of friendship and goodwill. I need a Christmas kiss." He bent down and proceeded to plant a lingering kiss on my lips. At first, I thought he was clowning around just to embarrass Brad.
"Whoa! Where did that come from?" I gasped. "That's not a friendly Christmas kiss. That was way too intimate." I pulled away in surprise.
Brad's face was crimson. He said, "On that note, I think it's time for me to go. That was more than I needed to see." My own face was burning as well. It was then that I realized this was not Floyd's first drink of the morning. Later, that day, he said, "I know I'm too old for this, but I've fallen in love with you. I can't help myself."
"That's just crazy," I told him. "I think of you as a friend, but that's all. We're both married, and I love my husband. If it's going to be like that, you know I won't be able to come back to work here after the baby comes."
From that day on, I was uncomfortable around Floyd. I was twenty-two at the time and was starting to look as if I'd swallowed a pumpkin. Surely a pregnant lady couldn't be attractive to an old man. Old is relative. Now the late fifties seems like the perfect age. Floyd wasn't old, but to someone not long out of high school, he was nursing home material. In a month, I would be going on maternity leave. This man was married, with grandchildren. It was more than just an awkward situation.
In my sheltered younger days, I'd grown up in a dry county and practically a dry state. Those who had a taste for strong drink had to make an effort to get it. I had some uncles who knew where to find it, but I seldom saw them. I wasn't aware of how an alcholic's common sense and inhibitions could go out the window. I should have gotten a clue from some of the experiences I'd had at our first apartments, but apparently, I was a slow learner.
Floyd continued to distress me with his declarations of love. It was easy to tell that he'd been drinking most mornings, before arriving at work. Not sure of his reaction, I hesitated about telling Evan. What if he thought I'd led this man on? He had enough problems at his work, I needed to handle my own problems like a big girl.
For the time being, I decided it was wise not to mention Floyd's actions to my husbend. Truthfully, I didn't have a clue how to handle the situalion without making a fool of myself. I didn't want to hurt Floyd's feelings, since he'd been so kind and understanding about my loss. I assumed it had to be the liquor talking. Who, in their right mind, would fall for someone about to give birth?
The baby wasn't due until February, but I found an excuse to take my maternity leave earlier than I'd originally planned. Things became worse because Floyd was drinking constantly. He'd even told his wife that he'd fallen in love with me. Almost every day, he would call me at home, and with slurred speech, tell me how much I meant to him.
At first, I tried reasoning with him, but when that didn't work, I would hang up as soon as I realized who was calling. When the telephone rang, my heart would go into panic mode. Eventually I started keeping the phone off the hook. He even called on weekends and at night when Evan was home.
In the end, I had no choice but to tell Evan what was going on. It felt like I was confessing a sin I hadn't committed. Evan wasn't happy, but he gave me the benefit of the doubt as to what contribution I might have made to cause this man to become obsessed with me. Since Floyd was the second coworker who had called me at home when he was intoxicated, I wondered if all working women had to deal with this kind of problem. Maybe I didn't belong in the city.
Was I too naive to know how to deal with men? Was it even possible for a young married woman to have male friends without them getting wrong ideas? I told the company that I wouldn't be returning after the baby came. Hanging up as soon as I heard Floyd's voice on the phone helped. Maybe he got help with his drinking problem.The phone calls gradually tapered off and eventually stopped. I have a feeling, Floyd's next assistant wasn't female.
Carol was born on the 27th of February. Having lost Susan, I was reluctant to leave my baby with anyone. Evan and I were overly cautious about everything and were always subconsciously preparing for the worst. We told the doctor she would not be getting the DPT injections, and he agreed. When she was two months old, I found another job and a sweet older lady to take care of our daughter while I worked. She wanted to be called "Big Mamma,"and she treated my baby like she was her own grandchild.
I vowed to be more cautious about making friends when it came to male coworkers. It was a time when women had little recourse other than being vigilant and trying to stop things before they started. I was slowly learning a few facts about the working world. Young women were vulnerable. It was like a jungle where a woman could easily become the prey.
Time would tell. I'm glad I didn't realize, at that point, how much more I would still have to learn.
The week after Susan's funeral, Evan and I spent some time on a practically deserted Island in the Gulf. We walked the sand dunes and grieved our loss, comforting each other and vowing to have another child as soon as possible. Possible would be sooner than either of us expected.
Returning to Jackson, I found an ad in our local paper for a commercial artist. I arranged an interview and got the job. It was with a large glass company located a few miles out from the city.
The art department was in a small building away from the executive offices. It was composed of an office, an art room, a darkroom, and a restroom. The office walls were lined with shelves containing printed soda bottles, jelly glasses, and many other types of printed glass. The art room was equipped with two large drawing tables, file cabinets, and art supply cabinets. Another small building near the art department housed a silk screen department, and still another larger building had an engineering and die-making department.
The head of the art department was the only other artist. Floyd had worked there for around twenty years. He was in his late fifties, about 6' 2" with graying hair, glasses, and an engaging smile. He was kind and sympathetic upon learning I'd just lost my first child. I'd never done darkroom work before, so the mixing of chemicals and use of enlargers and cameras required some hands on training. Floyd had always had a male artist working with him before, so working with a girl was a new experience for him. I guess the head of the personal department failed to considered the fact that putting a female in such a private situation with only one man wasn't a smart idea.
Floyd was older than my father, and it never occured to me that he might want to be more than a mentor and friend. He loved to talk and was a good listener, when I had things to share. One thing he revealed was that he'd had problems with alcohol, but he indicated he'd gotten it under control. He didn't drink at work, so I didn't give it much thought. Twice a day, he'd go into the break room, make coffee, and call me over to join him. An engineer, named Brad, usually joined us as well. To me, Floyd seemed like an understanding uncle or surrogate father figure.
After a month on the job, I realized the desire Evan and I had for another baby was coming true. I was pregnant again. We were thrilled, but we decided to let it be our secret until it started to become obvious. I was nearly six months along, when I let the company know I would be leaving to have a baby. Management said they had gotten good reports on my work and wanted me to return to my job as soon as possible after the baby came. Although I bearly knew them, the girls in the main office surprised me with a baby shower.
A few days before Christmas, Floyd brought a bottle of vodka to work. Brad, who blushed easily, was over sharing a drink with Floyd. I didn't drink, but I did have a tiny bit of vodka in my coke. Suddenly Floyd got up and walked around the desk to me and said, "Holidays are a time of friendship and goodwill. I need a Christmas kiss." He bent down and proceeded to plant a lingering kiss on my lips. At first, I thought he was clowning around just to embarrass Brad.
"Whoa! Where did that come from?" I gasped. "That's not a friendly Christmas kiss. That was way too intimate." I pulled away in surprise.
Brad's face was crimson. He said, "On that note, I think it's time for me to go. That was more than I needed to see." My own face was burning as well. It was then that I realized this was not Floyd's first drink of the morning. Later, that day, he said, "I know I'm too old for this, but I've fallen in love with you. I can't help myself."
"That's just crazy," I told him. "I think of you as a friend, but that's all. We're both married, and I love my husband. If it's going to be like that, you know I won't be able to come back to work here after the baby comes."
From that day on, I was uncomfortable around Floyd. I was twenty-two at the time and was starting to look as if I'd swallowed a pumpkin. Surely a pregnant lady couldn't be attractive to an old man. Old is relative. Now the late fifties seems like the perfect age. Floyd wasn't old, but to someone not long out of high school, he was nursing home material. In a month, I would be going on maternity leave. This man was married, with grandchildren. It was more than just an awkward situation.
In my sheltered younger days, I'd grown up in a dry county and practically a dry state. Those who had a taste for strong drink had to make an effort to get it. I had some uncles who knew where to find it, but I seldom saw them. I wasn't aware of how an alcholic's common sense and inhibitions could go out the window. I should have gotten a clue from some of the experiences I'd had at our first apartments, but apparently, I was a slow learner.
Floyd continued to distress me with his declarations of love. It was easy to tell that he'd been drinking most mornings, before arriving at work. Not sure of his reaction, I hesitated about telling Evan. What if he thought I'd led this man on? He had enough problems at his work, I needed to handle my own problems like a big girl.
For the time being, I decided it was wise not to mention Floyd's actions to my husbend. Truthfully, I didn't have a clue how to handle the situalion without making a fool of myself. I didn't want to hurt Floyd's feelings, since he'd been so kind and understanding about my loss. I assumed it had to be the liquor talking. Who, in their right mind, would fall for someone about to give birth?
The baby wasn't due until February, but I found an excuse to take my maternity leave earlier than I'd originally planned. Things became worse because Floyd was drinking constantly. He'd even told his wife that he'd fallen in love with me. Almost every day, he would call me at home, and with slurred speech, tell me how much I meant to him.
At first, I tried reasoning with him, but when that didn't work, I would hang up as soon as I realized who was calling. When the telephone rang, my heart would go into panic mode. Eventually I started keeping the phone off the hook. He even called on weekends and at night when Evan was home.
In the end, I had no choice but to tell Evan what was going on. It felt like I was confessing a sin I hadn't committed. Evan wasn't happy, but he gave me the benefit of the doubt as to what contribution I might have made to cause this man to become obsessed with me. Since Floyd was the second coworker who had called me at home when he was intoxicated, I wondered if all working women had to deal with this kind of problem. Maybe I didn't belong in the city.
Was I too naive to know how to deal with men? Was it even possible for a young married woman to have male friends without them getting wrong ideas? I told the company that I wouldn't be returning after the baby came. Hanging up as soon as I heard Floyd's voice on the phone helped. Maybe he got help with his drinking problem.The phone calls gradually tapered off and eventually stopped. I have a feeling, Floyd's next assistant wasn't female.
Carol was born on the 27th of February. Having lost Susan, I was reluctant to leave my baby with anyone. Evan and I were overly cautious about everything and were always subconsciously preparing for the worst. We told the doctor she would not be getting the DPT injections, and he agreed. When she was two months old, I found another job and a sweet older lady to take care of our daughter while I worked. She wanted to be called "Big Mamma,"and she treated my baby like she was her own grandchild.
I vowed to be more cautious about making friends when it came to male coworkers. It was a time when women had little recourse other than being vigilant and trying to stop things before they started. I was slowly learning a few facts about the working world. Young women were vulnerable. It was like a jungle where a woman could easily become the prey.
Time would tell. I'm glad I didn't realize, at that point, how much more I would still have to learn.
Returning to Jackson, I found an ad in our local paper for a commercial artist. I arranged an interview and got the job. It was with a large glass company located a few miles out from the city.
The art department was in a small building away from the executive offices. It was composed of an office, an art room, a darkroom, and a restroom. The office walls were lined with shelves containing printed soda bottles, jelly glasses, and many other types of printed glass. The art room was equipped with two large drawing tables, file cabinets, and art supply cabinets. Another small building near the art department housed a silk screen department, and still another larger building had an engineering and die-making department.
The head of the art department was the only other artist. Floyd had worked there for around twenty years. He was in his late fifties, about 6' 2" with graying hair, glasses, and an engaging smile. He was kind and sympathetic upon learning I'd just lost my first child. I'd never done darkroom work before, so the mixing of chemicals and use of enlargers and cameras required some hands on training. Floyd had always had a male artist working with him before, so working with a girl was a new experience for him. I guess the head of the personal department failed to considered the fact that putting a female in such a private situation with only one man wasn't a smart idea.
Floyd was older than my father, and it never occured to me that he might want to be more than a mentor and friend. He loved to talk and was a good listener, when I had things to share. One thing he revealed was that he'd had problems with alcohol, but he indicated he'd gotten it under control. He didn't drink at work, so I didn't give it much thought. Twice a day, he'd go into the break room, make coffee, and call me over to join him. An engineer, named Brad, usually joined us as well. To me, Floyd seemed like an understanding uncle or surrogate father figure.
After a month on the job, I realized the desire Evan and I had for another baby was coming true. I was pregnant again. We were thrilled, but we decided to let it be our secret until it started to become obvious. I was nearly six months along, when I let the company know I would be leaving to have a baby. Management said they had gotten good reports on my work and wanted me to return to my job as soon as possible after the baby came. Although I bearly knew them, the girls in the main office surprised me with a baby shower.
A few days before Christmas, Floyd brought a bottle of vodka to work. Brad, who blushed easily, was over sharing a drink with Floyd. I didn't drink, but I did have a tiny bit of vodka in my coke. Suddenly Floyd got up and walked around the desk to me and said, "Holidays are a time of friendship and goodwill. I need a Christmas kiss." He bent down and proceeded to plant a lingering kiss on my lips. At first, I thought he was clowning around just to embarrass Brad.
"Whoa! Where did that come from?" I gasped. "That's not a friendly Christmas kiss. That was way too intimate." I pulled away in surprise.
Brad's face was crimson. He said, "On that note, I think it's time for me to go. That was more than I needed to see." My own face was burning as well. It was then that I realized this was not Floyd's first drink of the morning. Later, that day, he said, "I know I'm too old for this, but I've fallen in love with you. I can't help myself."
"That's just crazy," I told him. "I think of you as a friend, but that's all. We're both married, and I love my husband. If it's going to be like that, you know I won't be able to come back to work here after the baby comes."
From that day on, I was uncomfortable around Floyd. I was twenty-two at the time and was starting to look as if I'd swallowed a pumpkin. Surely a pregnant lady couldn't be attractive to an old man. Old is relative. Now the late fifties seems like the perfect age. Floyd wasn't old, but to someone not long out of high school, he was nursing home material. In a month, I would be going on maternity leave. This man was married, with grandchildren. It was more than just an awkward situation.
In my sheltered younger days, I'd grown up in a dry county and practically a dry state. Those who had a taste for strong drink had to make an effort to get it. I had some uncles who knew where to find it, but I seldom saw them. I wasn't aware of how an alcholic's common sense and inhibitions could go out the window. I should have gotten a clue from some of the experiences I'd had at our first apartments, but apparently, I was a slow learner.
Floyd continued to distress me with his declarations of love. It was easy to tell that he'd been drinking most mornings, before arriving at work. Not sure of his reaction, I hesitated about telling Evan. What if he thought I'd led this man on? He had enough problems at his work, I needed to handle my own problems like a big girl.
For the time being, I decided it was wise not to mention Floyd's actions to my husbend. Truthfully, I didn't have a clue how to handle the situalion without making a fool of myself. I didn't want to hurt Floyd's feelings, since he'd been so kind and understanding about my loss. I assumed it had to be the liquor talking. Who, in their right mind, would fall for someone about to give birth?
The baby wasn't due until February, but I found an excuse to take my maternity leave earlier than I'd originally planned. Things became worse because Floyd was drinking constantly. He'd even told his wife that he'd fallen in love with me. Almost every day, he would call me at home, and with slurred speech, tell me how much I meant to him.
At first, I tried reasoning with him, but when that didn't work, I would hang up as soon as I realized who was calling. When the telephone rang, my heart would go into panic mode. Eventually I started keeping the phone off the hook. He even called on weekends and at night when Evan was home.
In the end, I had no choice but to tell Evan what was going on. It felt like I was confessing a sin I hadn't committed. Evan wasn't happy, but he gave me the benefit of the doubt as to what contribution I might have made to cause this man to become obsessed with me. Since Floyd was the second coworker who had called me at home when he was intoxicated, I wondered if all working women had to deal with this kind of problem. Maybe I didn't belong in the city.
Was I too naive to know how to deal with men? Was it even possible for a young married woman to have male friends without them getting wrong ideas? I told the company that I wouldn't be returning after the baby came. Hanging up as soon as I heard Floyd's voice on the phone helped. Maybe he got help with his drinking problem.The phone calls gradually tapered off and eventually stopped. I have a feeling, Floyd's next assistant wasn't female.
Carol was born on the 27th of February. Having lost Susan, I was reluctant to leave my baby with anyone. Evan and I were overly cautious about everything and were always subconsciously preparing for the worst. We told the doctor she would not be getting the DPT injections, and he agreed. When she was two months old, I found another job and a sweet older lady to take care of our daughter while I worked. She wanted to be called "Big Mamma,"and she treated my baby like she was her own grandchild.
I vowed to be more cautious about making friends when it came to male coworkers. It was a time when women had little recourse other than being vigilant and trying to stop things before they started. I was slowly learning a few facts about the working world. Young women were vulnerable. It was like a jungle where a woman could easily become the prey.
Time would tell. I'm glad I didn't realize, at that point, how much more I would still have to learn.
 Recognized |
|
This is an ongoing story of my early marriage years and will become part of the book, Chasing the Elusive Dream, which is in my portfolio.
Pays
one point
and 2 member cents. 
You need to login or register to write reviews. It's quick! We only ask four questions to new members.
© Copyright 2024. BethShelby All rights reserved.
BethShelby has granted FanStory.com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
