In the late fifties I was hired as a flight attendant. During the training program we were told: all but two of our pilots are married. Do not get involved with married pilots. You are expendable, they are not. If you are caught you will be fired.
I had a captain push his way into my room on a short layover. He chased me around the room, eventually pinning me on the bed. When he tried to kiss me I bit him. Hard. He left immediately. This captain had a bad reputation, so the rest of the crew guessed exactly what happened and spread the word around the crew lounge. This story turned out well.
This next story not so much. After leaving the airline I went to work for a computer manufacturer. One day the President of the company’s European operation was at the home office. He stopped by my desk and chatted me up several times. At he end of the week he asked me out to dinner. He told me he was divorced, and I expected he would be safe considering where we met.
We went to dinner at a historic inn about twenty miles outside of town. On the way home he pulled into a corn field road. He drove far into the field and raped me. I begged, pleaded, I cried to no avail. Now what do you supposed would have happened if I had gone to the company’s human services department? Well, I remembered my airline training and I figured I would be fired. So I told no one until many years later.
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