WOC

DO NOT PICK UP

I am a young migrant from a -so called- third world country and I certainly look like it. I was mid way my PhD and huge financial problems developed back home. I approached my bank at the time (Natwest) as I heard that, given my financial history with them, I was elegible to get a small loan. The costumer service guy who explained the process was being a little bit too friendly as he was asking me for my personal info. For example he started asking me if I had a boyfriend and how was my relationship with him, etc. Since is relatively normal (or so I thought at the time anyway), that guys engage you in that way sometimes, I overlooked this, and continued engaging in the process. It felt weird, but I let it pass. At another moment, when we were going to sign the papers and finalise the loan agreement, (we were doing this at one of those private cubicles that banks have), this guy prints the documents and keeps being a bit too friendly, uncomfortably so. The next thing I know he starts making remarks about what sexual positions he likes, and insists that we should ‘meet up sometime’. It all happened very fast, and as I recall the incident is hard for me to remember details, but what I do recall was my utter fear of not being approved that loan that I needed so much. So, I remember navigating the situation without confronting him, kept being ‘f’riendly’ in the surface, only hoping to sign my papers and leave the place. This guy had my number (and all my personal details for obvious reasons), so at one point I did think ‘what the hell I am going into’?. He gave me his personal mobile and said he would call me – which he did, several times. I recorded his number in my phone with the label creepy guy from Natwest DO NOT PICK UP, to make sure I would always avoid answering the phone by mistake, or whatever. Luckily eventually the guy stopped calling me, but I am always suspicious and never pick up phone calls from numbers I don’t know. As I write this I realise this is perhaps my mind trying to protect me from that guy. To this date, every time I walk past that Natwest branch i get the creeps, and I have never entered those premises again. It’s been almost seven years since that incident, and only recently managed to clear my debts. After receiving the letter from Natwest confirming this (few days ago), the memory of that episode came back to me as a chilling reminder of the kinds of things as women we have to put up with on a daily basis. At the time to be honest, I simply normalised the episode and even made a bit of a joke about it with my friend (also a migrant woman of colour). We reflected a lot about how twisted this power dynamic was played out and used by him so shamelessly. We dissected the different layers of disadvantage I had over me, and how it would make more harm than good to me to try to denounce the situation. Looking back, I am not sure if I was right or not on letting it go, but I guess at the time that was the decision I felt most at safe with, so I don’t regret it. Although, of course, my feminist self nowadays does pose on me the challenge, or rather the question, would have been be best to confront him? VERONICA