“You can’t fire me! I quit!”

I had not expected to be slapped on my ass and told it was “delicious.” That was not part of the job description. Nowhere in all the paperwork that I read did it say “You’ll put up with disgusting men who will leer at you, make derogatory comments and playfully place their hands of you” but that’s exactly what happened.

I was young and broke and took the first job I could find. It was a small ad in the newspaper. The man was looking for someone to answer phones, take orders and be there when someone came to pick-up the orders. Simple and definitely something I could do with my non-existent office experience as a young woman of 20.

My boss was rarely there as he had a full-time job elsewhere and had started this small business for himself. His product was a metal template for contractor’s to lay down tile. My job was to answer the phones, take the order and leave them for him to build at night and on the weekends.

The phone rang twice the first 3 weeks I was there. The office was in an industrial park with a very tiny office in front and a huge warehouse in the back where the orders were stacked. I had auto body shops and mechanics all around me. I spent 8 hours a day, 5 days a week reading and staring at the walls. I would see my boss if and when he showed up at 5:00.