I’m Gonna Harass The Sexual Right Out Of You

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(Yes, folks…I’m back at work, doing teacher’s training, in preparation for next year.  Summer, you sweet, sultry bitch…I’ll miss you.)

 

Me: “What are we doing on Friday?”

James: “Technology training in the morning, and sexual harassment training all afternoon.”

Me: “Training?  They want us to be awesome at sexual harassment?”

James: “I’m guessing they want us NOT to do it.”

Me: “So that means we have 48 hours left before we have to cut that shit out.”

(two minutes later)

Me: “Your ass looks nice in those pants.”

James: “Nice tits.”

*high five*

In which I accidentally sexually harass a neighbor…

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To preface…the neighbor in question is a questionably employed guy who wears threadbare undershirts on the daily, and who constantly hits on me, only to be instantly rebuffed.  He is, however, the only proximate person I know who has tools, so, ill-advised as it was…I found myself standing in his living room, on a Saturday morning, wearing something that he would probably claim in court was “asking for it”…

Creepy neighbor: “What about this one?” (holding up a screwdriver)

Me: “No, I need a bigger one.”

Creepy neighbor: “Like this?”

Me: “No, I want one that has a fatter head, not one that’s longer.”

Creepy neighbor: (raised eyebrows)

Me: “Yeah, I heard that, too, as it came out of my mouth.”

Creepy neighbor: (smirking)

Me: “Oh.  My.  God.  Just give me the tool, okay?”

Creepy neighbor: “Heh.  Heh.  Heh.”

Me: (facepalm)