Four letter word

It does not take a rocket scientist to understand that I am a basic man, nothing special here, just move on. I do not consider myself super special. I know very little about the religion I feel closest to. I have only had unsuccessful relationships with brutal and dishonest people. I have wasted money on terrible and wasteful concepts. I have a dog, but she disrespects me. I am a regular man.

Except for one thing. For whatever reason, people like to tell me things that often times make me sad.

I was setting up my camera and some microphones for work today. A nice conference room in a modern building. On days like this, I am always the first person there and almost always the last to leave, it is how I am. So, alone, I was setting things up and this beautiful woman appears in the doorway. She asks who I am, I tell her, she says she has the right room and comes in and starts to set up her own stuff. We are both early.

She is stunning. Naturally beautiful and aging incredibly well. I am really just minding my own business and out of the blue she asks if she can talk with me.

Now, this is a completely professional environment. A professional office building, with professional people in professional offices. I was wearing a suit, a white shirt and tie. It would be hard not to think of me as a professional.

Of course, I answered, without regard to any sort of doors (trap or otherwise) that could be opening.

"I just found out last night that my daughter was raped."

She began to cry.

"I promised not to tell my ex-husband or any other family members."

She really started to cry.

"I don't know what to do. What to say. I don't know anything."

I was at a loss. Personally, and I told her this later, I feel rapists should be dragged out of their dorm rooms, or crack dens, or office parks, and shot. That is true, it is how I think of these people. I thought this many years before I had daughters, but once I had daughters, I knew that would be the only option available for rapists if I was ever named king.

She told me what happened. Daughter is a freshman, got drunk, ended up in a room. Now, anyone in college has probably been in some sort of similar situation. Here is my attitude, if you are a man and can not seduce a college student without getting them so black out drunk they can't recognize you in a line up, then first off you should not be having sex with drunk girls and second, you should be dragged from your dorm room and shot.

Oh, I know, she got drunk, so in some way, she got what she deserved, at least that is probably the mantra of college boys around the world. See, god did something amazing to men. If men get black out drunk, they can't perform sexually. Now, god may have done the same for women, but for rapists, that impediment does not come into play.

So I tried to lend a helping ear to this woman who was so obviously overwhelmed with pain and frustration. There was not much I could say. College students do stupid things? Could I say that? I could have told her that I know women who have been sexually assaulted and some are damaged for life. I should have told her that she should leave and go pick up her daughter and take her home and let he be alone for a few months.

Instead, I just listened. When there was a pause, I tried to explain that her daughter should be able to get as drunk as she wants without the threat of sexual assault. I think people should get drunk, or high, especially in college, but that does not open a door to rape. Guys should get drunk too, say stupid thinks, pull stunts that they will have to pay for, like painting obscene words on the administration building walls. What guys should never do is take advantage of a drunken woman.

Yet, this mother, this wonderful woman, this person showing up to do her job, is burdened with the thought that after successfully getting her daughter to the edge of adulthood, must now help her daughter hold it together after an unimaginable assault.

The way my job works is that I am almost always the first person in the room and almost always the last to leave. At the end of the day, as the crowd of people had left, it was me and the mother, alone again. She was packing up her stuff, I was packing mine. As she was preparing to leave she said she wanted to thank me for listening. I looked at her, a tear coming to my eye, gently rolling down my cheek, and I said, "I am the father of two young women and your daughter has survived my greatest fear. My heart goes out to you."

We hugged, she cried. Then she left. Walking down a long hallway in a professional office building, surrounded by professional people, doing their jobs.