There have been some laughs

Today, the phone company guy was working in our office. I was having a conversation with a fellow worker when he emerged from the storage room to hear this tidbit "yeah, there would be no sex going on that night."

He had to visibly recompose himself before updating us on his progress. Rather than be embarrassed, I figured that anyone who walks into a sexual assault service agency outta expect to hear a few things they don't normally hear.

But, that got me thinking about they lighter moments with clients.

Once, I was assisting a woman in her 80s who had been raped by an intruder in her home. She was very petite and feisty. We were progressing along with the form in which the victim is asked to give details about the assault so that the nurse and doctor can look in the appropriate places for evidence. The nurse looked at me with dread in her eyes. I knew exactly which question was next. I turned to my client and asked as sweetly as possible (I was in my mid-twenties at the time) "we need to know when was the last time you had sex before this assault?" The client popped up on the examination table and smiled and said "My Birthday, 1964." In response to our rather stunned silence, she turned to face me and said "my husband died the next year." And she wasn't a bit ashamed or embarrassed.

Another time, more recently, I had a young woman (I'm now a 30-something and can pull off the "adult authority" act more convincingly) who had been raped by a man she'd sought to buy drugs from. This isn't that uncommon. Women who use drugs are especially vulnerable. Drug dealers assume that they wouldn't dare report it because they'd have to admit what they'd done too. (For those of you who want to frown and think "tsk tsk" - imagine how you'd feel if you agreed to pay the neighbor child $25 to mow your lawn - and then were forced to perform oral sex after paying up?) Anyway, this young woman was in pretty sad shape. She clearly had put herself through the wringer. She kept falling asleep while we were asking her the necessary questions. I suspected she was "playing 'possum." I noticed she had a rubber band on her wrist. So, when she'd "fall asleep" on us, I started reaching over and giving the band a bit of a snap. It worked several times. Then, she looked in my eyes, and said "you're harshing my buzz."

There are lots of stories - but I'll just tell one more - and save others for another time.

Years ago, we had a woman who called several times a day. Often to rant about the subjects of various talk shows. We finally had to put limits on when she could call us. (Feeling upset about her own sexual abuse okay -- feeling upset about the Montel show, not okay.) Anyway, one day she was told me that her sister had been abducted many times by aliens, and she even had an alien baby. (I couldn't help but think - man, that must be one ugly kid.) Then, without even taking a breath - she said "and I never get to go anywhere." I couldn't stop myself before I said "maybe you should hang out with your sister more." She got very upset with me and chided me for not taking the abduction by aliens and alien babies more seriously. I know, my bad. Especially since I've recently read that 4 million Americans believe they have been abducted and molested by aliens. That's roughly half the population of the state I live in.