I knew a man who worked as a helpline attendant. The line is open 24/7 for people who are in crisis to call and talk to someone.
I say I “knew” this man because he is no longer in my life any more.
We went on several dates, but that’s where things ended. I couldn’t put my finger on why I was unsure about him, but in hindsight, I would say that it was because I didn’t trust him to respect my boundaries.
When he asked me out on our final “date”, I was clear to him beforehand that I just wanted to be friends. He said that was fine and that he still wanted to hang out anyway. Alright, I thought. What could go wrong?
As we sat in his apartment eating takeout pizzas, I noticed that he kept trying to sit close to me- then put his hand on my leg. When I tried to move it and remind him about our earlier conversation about just being friends he would acknowledge it, but a few minutes later, his hand would be back.
I wasn’t enjoying my pizza and I was kicking myself for putting myself in this position.
Just now, I was about to type “I thought I made myself clear” but I know that I did- with the earlier conversation, with my body language, and my verbal “no’s”.
Still, he started to try to kiss me and put my hand on his crotch, even whipping out his penis at one point.
That is when I stood up and told him I was leaving.
I escaped that night and have never seen that man again (thankfully).
But I still think of him from time to time. And I think of the people who call the helpline that he works at.
He’s told me about some of the calls… about different people in crisis.
A woman who was pregnant, a man who was suicidal. He told me that often men just want someone to talk to, and when they call and find themselves talking to another man- not a woman- they hang up faster.
I think about who I would call if I were in crisis. Would I call this man who tried to hurt me?
While trying to thread the needle to get out of his apartment, I had a literal first responder- right there. Yet that was who I was trying to escape from.
He’s not only a hotline operator. He’s an economics professor at a University and a firefighter on the side; heavily involved in the community.
Yet I would never call him for help if I needed it.
In fact, I wonder if I were to call that crisis line about my unpleasant experience who would pick up on the other end?
Messy Bun Book Lover
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