It wasn't until I got back to my desk that I recalled just who the lady was. I worked for her briefly in the early 1990's. She was a single woman, a senior NCO who loved to party, constantly trying to find a good man to snag as a husband, but mostly looking in bars and clubs. She had me make a few phone calls once, pretending to be a lawyer so we could determine if a man she was seeing was really divorced like he said he was, or just playing her. We weren't close per se, but every so often our conversations drifted beyond the professional relationship you'd expect of our situation.
Anyway, one morning, she called a group of us guys together and told us she wanted us all to come to her house after work. She was giving away all of her liquor and all of her porn. I just remember being turned on by the fact that she was admitting to owning porn - and lots of it! Of course, everyone had questions but she was fairly upset and tight-lipped about the whole thing.
After work, just two of us followed her to her apartment, and when we walked in, she had a box loaded with probably 50 VHS tapes of porn featuring mostly black people, primarily straight, but there was even some group sex and lesbian porn. She had another box, the kind you get from the liquor store with bottles, just over half-full of whiskey, rum, vodka, the full gamut of liquor. There was also a handful of beers left in the refrigerator. Between the two of us guys, we split the loot, thanked our supervisor for her generosity and left.
I do remember being especially turned on by the fact that this lady had lesbian porn. Of course, I would never bring it up to her.
As you would expect, there were whispers and such - what had brought on the sudden sobriety and clean living. Within a week or two, our supervisor had gone from the older party gal to a born again Christian reading scripture at work and looking to be reassigned out of our office. I didn't want to pry but I felt like she might open up to me since she had semi-flirted with me from time to time and told me I wasn't like the other white guys.
One day before she moved to her new office, she and I had a conversation where she opened up and told me only the briefest of details. We were sitting in a small office with the door wide open, really anyone could have walked in or by but it was late in the day and people were on their way home. "I got banged" was how she put it. I just looked at her thinking she was meaning a guy had fucked her. I asked, "Assaulted?" As a tear made a rapid drop down one side of her face, she shook her head to indicate no. "I was in a gang bang." Before her eyes could let loose with a flood of tears, she took a tissue from the desk and wiped them away. It was like she was forcing herself to be stronger than the memory.
My mind raced. Ordinarily, I would have been so eager for the details but I knew this woman was in personal turmoil. She told me that she had partied Saturday night and when she woke up Sunday morning, she was in bed with a guy. She knew him - he was a guy she had been with before and this was not the first time she had woken up to find him in her bed without remembering the full details. That was not the shock that changed this woman's life.
After brushing her teeth, she walked to the kitchen to get a pot of coffee going and saw a guy she did not recognize passed out on the couch. He was nude. She actually laughed when she told me that she ran back to her room to grab a robe because she too was in the nude. In my mind, she had just confessed to a drunken threesome. Big deal. At the same time in my life, my wife and I were routinely having threesomes with another co-worker of mine. This was not the end of the world. I offered what I thought was a comforting, "Technically, I don't think that qualifies as a gang-bang."
Just then another co-worker poked his head in the door and said that I was needed in the office and that as the end of the conversation.
A few weeks later, my friend "L" who I have written about before, told me the rest of the story. As it turns out, there was a nude guy on her couch. But on the coffee table was her video camera. When she walked back into the room (now in her robe no doubt), she quietly picked up the camera and rewound the tape. It seems her heavy drinking caused her to black out the memory of a fun evening of fucking. Instead of two guys, there were four. Aside from the one she woke up in bed with and knew, the other three were complete strangers to her. This was no assault. The video, much of it filmed by her herself revealed that she had directed much of the action. Other times, someone else would grab the camera and record her being taken every which way from Sunday. This woman was no prude, and in fact, I think what got her attention was the fact that she got so drunk that she couldn't remember just how she got back to her apartment or how she met the other three men. According to "L", she was in constant fear that she would be in a grocery store or worse - at work, and one of these men would approach her.
Of course I was turned on by it all, but I could see how this could change someones life. "And the video tape?" I asked "L". She burned it in her fire place.
I wonder if when I passed this woman if she went back to her office and tried to recall who I was and how she knew me, or if she has simply blocked that part of her life.