Wolf and Wolf
The next thing I knew, his heavy, boneless hand was hot on my thigh.
I lurched away. “This is not what I meant,” I stammered. The whole thing had suddenly taken on the quality of a bad horror film. The floor spun. By now my back was against the sink, which was as far away as I could get. He moved toward me. I turned away from him toward the sink and found myself vomiting.
I find the very last part of that story hard to credit, unless there was a lot more booze involved than she's letting on.
Then again, hmm. Maybe she's on the level.
I don't think I'm suggesting sexual harassment is no big deal if I say it's really not very iron-jawed-angel for Ms. Wolf to be typing breathlessly about this incident twenty years after the fact. But it probably is pretty tasteless for me to recount the first thing I thought when I read this story: there should be a Page Six or an US Weekly aimed at the pseudointellectual class, recounting the pecadillos of academics, jurists, authors, and suchlike creatures. I'd read it daily.
comments powered by Disqus
- This New York Times ‘Hitler’ book review sure reads like a thinly veiled Trump comparison
- US owes blacks reparations over slavery: UN experts
- Mali Islamist jailed for nine years for Timbuktu shrine attacks
- Poland wrestles with its past — and present
- What Historians Are Saying About the First Trump-Clinton Debate
- Princeton professor documents the movement that ended single-sex education at elite schools
- Historian EP Thompson denounced Communist party chiefs, files show
- Voting opens soon for the leaders of the OAH in 2017