I always miss the point.

I don’t know why. It can be staring me stark in the face from six inches away and I’ll crane my neck to look around it, to see what’s on the other side.

I guess it’s a matter of perspective. I spent a lot of years with none, and now, to rectify that, I’ve gone whole hog the other direction.

The other side of the road. The alternate view. The real truth – yours, mine and reality, from as many angles as I can scope.

And it’s blinding.

The funny thing is, this isn’t about overanalysis. A lot of people might interpret this as second-guessing or lack of confidence or whatever, and maybe to some extent, that’s the case.

But mostly it’s about being burned, over and over again, by a lack of insight.

Like right now.

I’m about to fire an asshole, over the accusation that he touched a woman’s bum. He sits in front of me, all hang-dogged in his expression, his big brown eyes threatening tears. His hands are folded in his lap, and they fidget as only the guilty can. Or the innocent, who don’t know why they’re there, but know it’s bad.

The assumption is guilt, but it could go either way. Would he protest more if he were innocent or guilty? Would I be able to tell the difference? Tone of voice, waver, urgency. Would I recognize crocodile tears? Doth he protest too much?

Most of upper management wanted him gone the same day without even cursory examination. A show of strength. For the females in the group, a show of solidarity. For the men, a desire not to show sympathy for the acts of an accused molester.

It’s all optics. Political correctness and “action” as a substitute for facts and discovery. Talking points, the surrogate, in the place of judgment, made in bluster about the ‘right thing’; in reality, about not getting sued or cancelled. Protect the bottom line, at all costs.

Me?

I can’t let it go without perspective. I believe that we start neutral and ask questions and work toward the truth. That starting with an assumption of guilt predisposes us to dismiss evidence that suggests otherwise, and limits our desire to seek out the truth.

Starting with an assumption of innocence can do the same. It’s not terribly fair to the victim, especially if they are a victim. It’s hard to feel good about accusing someone who’s been wronged of exaggeration or deceit.

On the other hand, if they are lying… I know it’s not popular to assume they are, but it does happen. More often than I think we care to admit. You’ve met people, right? They lie.

Of course, if you have to start with one or the other, innocence is the way to go. Better to believe in the inherent goodness of people than not.

Anyway, there’s this fucker, running around, wanton hands on the behinds of unsuspecting women, or so his accusers would have us believe, without examination or skepticism. I choose investigation. Questions. Find the truth so the truth can out.

It wasn’t a popular decision, but like I said, I need perspective. I’ve been told how unfair this is to the victim, that she should be listened to with unwavering belief, as though she’s God, and we’re the Catholic faithful.

But I’m agnostic.

If we’re about to destroy a man; perhaps a suspension of all disbelief is not the best method to do so. After all, the guy is married. He has two children, both toddlers. If found guilty, he has to go home to his wife and children and tell them he lost his job – for sexually assaulting a woman. Maybe he lies to them, but there’s lots of mutual friends; the truth will out eventually. It always does.

And then what?

Does his wife forgive him? Does she leave him? Does she take the children? Do the children grow up with angry, divorced parents or without a father because of one unwanted hand on someone’s behind?

Does he lose his house, his car, his family? Does he end up broke and homeless, on the street, shunned by friends and family alike, unhireable by any company that doesn’t want to risk a potential rapist in their midst?

A life destroyed. For a hand on a butt.

Multiple lives destroyed. Collateral damage. Innocent lives destroyed. Children’s lives.

For a hand on a butt.

The woman will go on. She’ll forget about this in a week or two, when things settle, and she’ll go back to her life in her cubicle with her friends and her new boss.

Oh yeah. Did I mention he’s her boss?

Yeah. Super shitty.

If legit.

Anyway, the woman will go back to friends and family and work and maybe some other man’s hand on her ass, and chances are, little will change for her. She might get creeped out at the thought of this guy if it comes up. She might be kind of skeeved.

He, on the other hand, may be on the street. He may lose everything, while the extent of her trauma is an uncomfortable memory, from time to time.

Proportion becomes a word to think about.

Proportion and perspective.

While the masses howl for blood, I ask questions. Compare and contrast. Weigh options. Consider motive, as well as action.

Who brought the charge?

The woman did. She was pushed into it by her boyfriend who also works in the space, and by his boss. She told us as much.

That’s interesting.

In her interview, she openly admitted to flirting with the accused and not actually wanting to speak with HR. Her boyfriend insisted.

The boyfriend has a history with other women in the building. He’s taken them to HR more than once to resolve some petty dispute, rarely work related. At times, he’s used the threat of discipline and termination to keep an ex-lover away from him, even as he texted them for a booty call that night. He’s used HR to separate lovers he didn’t want to know about each other. He’s promised no more contact with former flames, only to re-engage immediately. More than once, the full story was shrouded in obfuscation.

Motive. Past tactics.

Half-truth for revenge on possible rival?

What about the boyfriend’s boss, who backed the allegation, though not a direct witness?

Similar rival. The accused was involved with a friend of his. Both were married. Suspicions of emotional cheating. A lot of texts and flirting. The boyfriend’s boss, then only co-worker, was livid with moral outrage, despite his similar behaviour with another employee, also married. The boyfriend’s boss isn’t exactly known for his ability to keep his pen out of the company ink. Indeed, the boys’ club, locker room bullshit is how he got promoted in the first place.

Motive again. Revenge is an aphrodisiac.

Alternate perspective. Assume good will.

Boyfriend genuinely upset about sexual assault on girlfriend. Girlfriend hesitant to report, due to stigma or concerns about backlash or believability. Boyfriend leverages boss. Boom. Human Resources.

Justice.

Or…

Motives of jealousy and general dislike, an accuser uncertain about making accusation, who actively admits to both flirting and enjoying said flirtation. Exaggeration or intentional deception?

Misread signals? Overzealous overture?

Inappropriate act.

Perhaps the word proportion needs to return.

Re-assignment? Demotion? Discipline? Isolation? Suspension?

Boyfriend makes threats of police involvement. The issue is being pushed. I can feel the twine pull tight around my hands. Still.

Still.

Innocent until proven guilty.

And if guilty? To what degree? Will his accusers laugh to themselves, smug and satisfied, as my judgment gives their drama legitimacy? What if their drama is false? What if it’s not true?

The man’s on the street. Dead in a gutter. Victim of the drink.

Or maybe none of that. Maybe his wife forgives him with open arms, knows he’s innocent, and he’s employed in days, if not hours.

Like I said. Perspective. Knowledge. Speculation. Too many ways to look at it. Could be the guy’s a real creep. Definite possibility. Hasn’t come across that way in the past, but he is over-friendly, with everyone.

So many ways to see it. So much information.

I’ve always been jealous of those who charge forward, heedless of reality.

A witness comes out. Heavyset girl, teammate of the plaintiff. Best friend. Says she saw the whole thing.

Funny. We were told there were no witnesses. Plaintiff versus defendant, alone, in the library with the candlestick. He said. She said.

The witness is the best friend. Convenient, but no way to refute.

There’s a whiff in the air.

But here we are.

With this guy.

This fucking guy.

The only thing we can do hangs in the air. And my time is running out.

I lean in, my fingers crossed on the table before me. My voice, laden with gravitas.

“I’m sorry, son. We have no choice but to let you go…”

Target: 1400 words
Written: 504 words, short story: Perspective

Read: The Catcher In The Rye, J.D. Salinger
Comics: Fables 101, Cinderella: Fables Are Forever 1-3
Music: February 11, 1990, Cactus Club, San Jose, Nirvana