The Last Donut with the Guys

Over the years, I’ve had my fair share of run-ins with men who seemed to lack a basic social filter and/or professional decorum. Usually, I’d just roll my eyes, mutter something about "men being men," and move on with my day. But this time was different. It didn't happen randomly —it happened in the heart of the office, with a peer I was supposed to trust.

One morning, I grabbed a donut, joined the social circle, and asked the guys the standard question: “What we doing for lunch today?” We were a group; we ate together. It was part of the culture.

Then, it happened.

A veteran peer—lets call him a "geezer", who should have known better—stepped toward me. He didn't just speak; he invaded. “Don’t you think this donut is enough to sustain you for the day?” he asked. As the words left his mouth, he reached out and rubbed my stomach.

The silence that followed was deafening. I stood there in total shock. I looked at the other EHS guys. Their mouths were literally hanging open. In an industry built on physical safety, a different kind of line had been crossed, and no one knew how to react.

Eventually, I brought the incident to my supervisor. To his credit, he was appalled. He didn't minimize it; he went straight to HR. The "remedy"? A full day of sensitivity training for the offender.

I can tell you now, with full authority: sensitivity training was not effective. You can’t train away a fundamental lack of respect with an eight-hour seminar.

The Lesson Learned: Document the "Small" Things Before They Scale

The takeaway is this: When a peer crosses a physical or professional boundary, do not "brush it off" as a personality quirk. The shock you feel in the moment is your intuition telling you that the environment has become hazardous.