I’m at a loss to explain how my Labour Day picnic went.

I went down to the HEU tent bright and early to go pass out shwag from our booth. We set it up, made it pretty, and then spent the next hour making each other laugh taking pictures.

My brother and sister were mostly content to sit in the chairs. I’m far to energetic for that and preferred to stay in front of the table talking with people. The event was hopping when the band started and it was a ton of fun.

At one point, a German tourist came by and asked what we were doing. I explained it to her and an older gentleman, drawn by the sound of German, joined us. The three of us stood there for a bit, chatted pleasantly in German, and both said their goodbyes.

A little later, the band picked up. Whatever song they were playing was great and in no time, my tent and the one next to us was dancing. And that was when I felt a hand on my backside.

I spun around and found myself staring into the jeering face of the older man.  “Sehr schon. Sehr nett, Mädchen.” (Very lovely. Very nice, girl.) I was speechless. I was stunned and upset, in part because I had stumbled over language first, then had stumbled over how to respond, then because he was so clearly unashamed of what he had done.

I’m still in shock over what happened. How can a stranger feel so entitled to grab my backside?

One thought on “The Labour Day picnic

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