A few days after the split, Karen was, once again, having a toilet break when she heard the door open. A group of women from her section entered. Immediately the smell of cigarette smoke filled the restroom.
"So, did'ya catch that program on the telly last night? The one about them trannies?"
"Trannies? What, like my Rob's van?"
"No, you ha'p'orth, transsexuals. You know, men what dress up as women, like. Disgusting, that's what I call it."
"My Sharon, over at the biscuit factory, she had to work with one. He was even allowed to come to work in a dress. There was all sorts of fuss when he wanted to use the ladies."
"I should fucking think so. What a fucking liberty. Sick, that's what I call it, sick."
"Yeah, it's bad enough having that Mel work with us."
"Mel? What's wrong with Mel?"
"She's a lezzie, isn't she? That's not natural either. It's all very well them having gay rights but what about our rights? I mean, what if she fancies me or summat?
At this point Karen's ears pricked up. An anger that had been simmering within her since the weekend raised its head.
"It's the kiddies I worry about. I mean, you don't ever know, do you? There was a story in the paper just the other day...."
As the restroom bigot recounted the sleaze from the gutter press, Karen finished off her business, pulled up her panties, yes, she did wear them nowadays, and smoothed down her skirt. Then, gathering up a courage she never knew she had, she stepped out of the booth and went over to the sinks. She rinsed off her hands and used the hand dryer before facing the group of women.
"May I remind you all that smoking in the restrooms is not only against company policy but also against the law? Furthermore as none of you seem to be in any way in need of a comfort break, I suggest that you might want to return to your desks. I will be holding a section meeting in five minutes and I think you'll find it is important that you attend." Karen controlled her anger, keeping her voice as level as possible.
"Oh, yeah, and who's going to make us?" the bigot replied.
"Well, as your section supervisor I guess that I am." Karen's blood was boiling now. "Smoking in the restrooms is a flagrant breach of office regulations. As such shall we consider this your first formal verbal warning about this misuse of office facilities? Furthermore any repeat of these offences will lead to a written warning and eventual dismissal. If you want to keep your job then I suggest you follow the rules. Or have you forgotten there's a recession on?"
"You can't do that, I'm in the union," the bigot, as ever the spokeswoman, retorted.
"The rules as I have stated them were negotiated with the full cooperation of the union," Karen replied. "In fact I believe the union were instrumental in working towards a smoke-free office even before the recent change in the law. And as for your views on gay, lesbian and transgender staff members, I think you'll find that the union has a pretty strong position on that as well. Don't forget, section meeting in five minutes."
Fired up with anger, Karen marched out of the restrooms with her head held high. It was a bit like riding a bike, getting started was the hard part. Now that she was up and running, she could use her anger to finally assert herself. The important thing was not to wobble, to use it, not to lose it. Sure, she had only left herself five minutes to bone up on the rules but, really, she had reached the limit of what she could take. She had been pushed from pillar to post and, quite frankly, if she could stand up to Jude, then there was no one here who should give her any qualms. She reached for the staff handbook and found the relevant pages.
"Right, ladies," Karen began once she had gathered her staff around her, "for far too long this section has been the laughing stock of the office and I, for one, have had enough. With immediate effect there are going to be one or two changes around here. For a start there has been far too much laxity regarding the rules about smoking breaks. May I remind you that, according to the rules agreed with the union," here Karen picked up the staff handbook and turned to the first marked page, "and I'm quoting from paragraph seventy three if anyone is interested, all staff taking smoking breaks must ensure that such breaks are clearly marked on their flexi-time sheets, signing out and back in again for each and every one? Starting from today, I shall be making random spot checks of all your flexi-sheets to ensure that this is being carried out. Furthermore smoking breaks must, and I repeat, must, be held in the designated smoking area which is the thing that looks a bit like a bus shelter over on the other side of the car park. Use of the restrooms is not permitted under any circumstances. I think you'll find," again she consulted the manual, "paragraph seventy six covers this one.
"Furthermore, may I remind you that any breaches of these rules will lead, as per the regulations," again she consulted the staff handbook, "to a formal verbal warning in the first instance, followed by a written warning, followed by dismissal. H.R. are to be informed at each stage. You are, of course, perfectly entitled to have union representation at any stage in this process but I would remind you that the union were fully involved in making these rules and were particularly active in the smoke-free office campaign. Paragraph two thirty seven is the relevant one here.
"Are there any questions?" she asked her shell-shocked staff. "No? Well that brings me to my second point. We're the joke section, the layabouts, the under achievers. Do you think management hasn't noticed? It's tough out there and, if you want to find out just how tough, then carry on the way we're going and we'll all be out of the door looking for jobs that simply don't exist. They'll have us closed down faster than you can say 'outsourced to India'. All of us, and I do mean all of us, need to buck our ideas up before it's too late.
"And, whilst I have your attention, I do have one last point," here Karen looked directly at the restroom bigot, "recently there have been a number of incidents of inappropriate language. I'm sure you're all aware of company policy, again with the complete agreement of the union, towards language that is derogatory of race, creed or sexuality. Such language will not be accepted and will dealt with under the normal disciplinary procedures. Is that quite clear?"
"You're talking about me, aren't you?" the restroom bigot asked. "Just because I can't be doing with poofs; they're dirty, they are."
"Yes, Maureen, in this instance I am talking about you, but I'm not singling you out. Exactly the same rule will apply to anyone else who uses that sort of language."
"Hah! You can't tell me what to think. It's a free country, or at least it used to be. Anyway, what would you know about anything?"
"Firstly, no, I can't tell you what to think but I can and will tell you what is, and what is not, appropriate language for the workplace and I will ensure that company policy on this matter is fully enforced. As to what I do or don't know about it, well, maybe I know a lot more than it seems you or your nasty little newspaper does." In the boiler room of Karen's anger the pressure gauges were reaching critical.
"I'm only saying what's right. I'm only saying what every one else around here thinks, Them poofs, they're sick and I don't want them anywhere near me," Maureen sneered.
And then something inside Karen just snapped. She hadn't meant to get sidetracked like this; she was just going to make a stand on the smoking thing but, here and now, she felt she had to say something, she had to be true to what she was. She couldn't be Karen the mouse anymore.
"Well, if you don't want them anywhere near you maybe it's time to find somewhere else to work because, right here, your working around me. I'm one of them, I'm a lesbian. Not only am I a lesbian but so is my girlfriend. Do you have any problem with that?" There, she'd said it.
"You..." Maureen started. The rest of the staff were stunned into silence.
"Yes, me, and I'm not ashamed of it. If you can't handle it, if it makes you feel uneasy because you have the daft idea that I might fancy you or some such nonsense then that's your problem because it certainly isn't mine. Is that quite clear? Now, does anyone else have any sort of problem with this?"
Mumbled denials were the only real response she got from her staff but there was none of the derision she would have had previously. She could tell that her words had struck home, maybe less so those about gender equality, but the general thrust had got through and the threat of their losing their jobs was very real. This once proud manufacturing town had seen a massive decline since the eighties; they would all have friends whose jobs had been outsourced so they would all know how quickly a 'job for life' could disappear. She looked around and saw Mel grinning at her and, when their eyes made contact, Mel mouthed the words 'Well done, sister'.
"Well, now we know where we all stand I suggest we all get back to work while we still have jobs. Don't forget to keep those flexi-sheets up to date. I will be checking."
Five minutes later Mel came over, ostensibly to check on how to proceed with a difficult case but, as they sat at Karen's desk she leant over and whispered "well done! I'm so proud of you. That took some bottle, facing down an old bat like Maureen."
"I... I had to. All those nasty things she was saying, I couldn't take it any more."
"Looks like there are quite a few things you can't take any more. I think the girls might even take notice for a change. Well done, sister, well done." And with that Mel returned to her desk.
The smoking break rule enforcement had an immediate effect of keeping more of the staff at their desks and the knock-on effects took only a little longer to manifest themselves. Even by the end of the week the increase in productivity was measurable and, more importantly, Karen felt that she was getting more respect, that her words were carrying more weight. She did make some checks on the flexi-time reporting sheets but, ironically, this had a positive side effect. Rather than finding unreported smoke breaks, she found a miscalculation by one of her staff who had worked more hours in than they thought and was able to take an afternoon off as a result.
But there was one more effect that she only found out about much, much later. That Friday the usual crowd met up in the club, well, most of them. Both Karen and Jude had cried off, each fearing that the other would be there.
Hey, guys," Mel said, "you'll never guess what happened at work on Tuesday."
