Saturday, 22 June 2019

The true horror stories in modern Paris and Bucharest part 115

After the initial panic, I willed myself to calm down.  I knew what to do in the situation like this for I had been sexually harassed by every superior (of various nationalities) that in the end I opted for working from home by myself.

Now sexual harassers can be sorted roughly in two types: one who enjoys overpowering the weak and delights in the misery of the victim.  The second type is the overconfident who believes that every woman wants a piece of him.  Both types ignore the will of women and thrives on our reaction, either pain or joy.  So I had developed this method that always worked which was to turn into a cool cucumber showing no pain nor joy which would fuel the excitement of the harassers.  
I blocked the curious hands of Mr. Treasure by covering my breast with my both arms while letting him continue to stroke my back.  I regularly receive remedial massages for my stiff back that it was easy to switch off my senses of that area.   
I made sure that my back was facing him so that he could not kiss my lips.  That would have grossed me out.  He was kissing my neck from above my hair, but the hair are essentially dead cells that again I felt nothing.  It was time to activate my precautionary insurance.

What Mr. Treasure did not know was that before I let him into my apartment I had contacted the president of the Japanese Association in Paris because Mr. Treasure had put his advertisement on the Association's communal Page.  The president naturally wanted me to report the result.  The words of mouth is sacred among the Japanese society which Mr. Treasure would have known after living 15 years in Japan.  His breathing was becoming louder but I spoke calmly.  'Would you like to meet the president of Japanese Association? 

Mr. Treasure finally stopped.  My method worked again as I used to check my former superiors' sexual advance by befriending their wives or their bosses.  Those jerks who would stoop to take advantage of their subordinates were always cowards.  I took this waited opportunity to break away from Mr. Treasure's grip, now weakened in his bewilderment.  He muttered.  'Why aren't you getting excited?'  What a pathetic question.  Thanks for ignoring my preference in men.  
Mr. Treasure whispered that 'I like you' as if that would have justified his unwanted advancement without my consent.  But I felt the danger had passed that I almost laughed at his next question.  'Did you not ever date a white man?  This reflected his low opinion on Asian women and my thoughts were on those Japanese women who had encountered him in the past.  No doubt, they endured his ego with bitterness.

I said to him 'we are very tight, the members of the Association.  The president welcomes friends of Japan, but he is also watching out for friends in disguise.'  The expression on Mr. Treasure became uncertain.  He had boasted himself to be more capable than French tradesmen and that many Japanese clients saw him as their savior.  However, I have a written proof that he aggravated the electricity leaking in my apartment.  He was correct in pointing out the flaw of my former architect, but when the man from my washing machine came to fix it, his testing equipment registered unusually high electricity leakage.  It was worse in the kitchen.  The figures on his report became the concrete proof of Mr. Treasure's substandard job.  In the end, it was this Japanese electrician who was able to stop the leaking.  And this was the man whom Mr. Treasure had badmouthed as 'an old man whose amateur jobs I (Mr. Treasure) had to redo.'  So, Mr. Treasure discriminated against the aged too. 

As soon as he left, I contacted my lawyer to deal with Mr. Treasure.  In a way I was lucky that he was the lesser dangerous of the two types of sexual harassers.  Mr. Treasure sought my excitement to endorse his ego.  However, the other more sinister type of sexual harassers thrives on the pain and the misery of the victims.  I have only encountered this type through my girl friends who suffered domestic violence.  (None of them ever listened to my pleas to leave the aggressor)   No doubt, Miss J fell in the evil clutch of this sadist with no mercy at Bucharest.  It is daunting that I must finally recount the gruesome crime in my next post.  
To be continued.
PVアクセスランキング にほんブログ村


  1. You dealt with that creep very effectively. People like that man should be locked up.