It was the mid-1970s. I sat completely on my own for the entire return flight from Paris. Not one of my colleagues talked to me because they had been ordered not to by the Chairman because the night before he had told me the job was not mine and I wasn’t right for his company.
I had started work only that week for a PR and marketing company who arranged musical festivals in the UK, parts of Europe and the US. The boss was the first cousin of a very famous comedy act in the 1970’s and 1980’s and I was really pleased to have landed the job, especially when my first assignment was in Paris with him and two of the other members of staff. I was only 25, and probably naïve, but I knew the job was ideal for me and I would be using my languages, especially French in which I was fluent.
So with all the excitement why exactly was the job taken away from me? Very simple reason in fact – because I refused to have a ‘nightcap’ with the boss in his hotel room. A week later I received a bill from the hotel where we had stayed; everyone else’s bills had been paid except for mine. Needless to say I sent it to the company to sort out.
That was a tough lesson to learn but it wasn’t the first time. In 1980 I took a job in the legal department of a well-known jeans company and was appointed as European Group Company Secretary. I had to travel to Paris once again to carry out a legal audit of the French office, this time on my own.
One of the worst experiences when travelling as a businesswoman alone is mealtimes because you either sit on your own in a restaurant with all eyes on you and most of the time being totally ignored by the staff, or you are forced to eat in your room. A man can easily have a drink in a bar, even now, but not a woman alone because everyone thinks you are just there to be picked up.
The first night I went downstairs and walked into the dining room which was overflowing with men who had just arrived by coach and were being shown to their seats. I hovered at the doorway hesitantly, willing the Maître’d to come over, but my discomfort was disregarded. Instead every male guest in the restaurant stopped and just stared at me. I just couldn’t face it so turned and walked out.
The second night, the Maître’d showed me to a hidden table in the corner of the dining room where it was laid for one person. I was almost an embarrassment to them. A woman on her own – it just went totally against the Parisian culture! I brought down a book with me because whilst waiting for my food to arrive, and the time taken is normally longer than one could ever anticipate, there is absolutely nothing whatsoever you can do. Maybe a newspaper over breakfast, which is not so bad, but dinner is an excruciating experience.
Five minutes after sitting down a waiter came over and asked if I would mind sharing my table with another guest because the restaurant was full. The person was hovering behind the waiter, an older English guy, and actually quite charming as it turned out. I agreed and we spent the evening quite easily and with no undertones, talking about his wife and family and my work. So, was the waiter trying to alleviate the restaurant’s discomfort or is it that some men are conditioned to chat someone up? It is a shame that not everyone can be like that man with whom I spent an engaging couple of hours. However, would his wife have understood and did he tell her?
The prejudices against women travelling alone, or in fact generally, were of course more prevalent a few decades ago but in my opinion not a lot has changed. Through my consultancy work, I have journeyed to various parts of the globe including the USA and Caribbean. My hand has been held on flights as I looked as if I might be nervous, apparently, I have received glasses of champagne mid-flight from some stranger and fellow passenger who smiled at me and waved for me to join him in the first class lounge. I have even been propositioned by one of the cabin crew who felt the need to ensure I was more than comfortable. I know we can’t have it all ways, and sometimes I do need a man to lift a heavy case into the overhead locker, or off an airport conveyor belt. However, saying yes please, and thank you, is not an invitation for anything else.
There are some lighter moments. Whilst in the Caribbean and staying in my employer’s house, a local English lawyer arrived unannounced, inviting me to dinner. I did agree and he took me to a charming restaurant overlooking the quay. As I walked into the dining area with him, I received the loudest wolf whistle. I looked around me and noticed that everyone was laughing, but I couldn’t see the joke. I could feel the heat rising as my discomfort grew. Until the sound came again – it was a parrot sitting proudly in his cage. That was one episode emblazoned on my memory and one from a male species on which I could not comment further.
Quite a number of years ago I was attending a meeting in London in an advisory capacity, but was the sole woman amongst twelve men. The client’s MD whom I hadn’t met before, strode in, gave me a cursory glance, and asked me simultaneously if I would organise the teas and coffees, and then take notes. He promptly sat down, turned his back on me, and carried on chatting to one of the other attendees as if I was completely invisible. Suffice to say I gave him short shrift. I handed him the internal phone and suggested he call one of the secretary’s to organise this for us, whilst I called the meeting to order. I would pay a considerable amount to see the shock on his face again.
Is it easier now? Admittedly I don’t travel so much nowadays as, with the advent of Zoom and Teams, meetings can be held from one’s own office attended by people globally. In my opinion, it boils down to respect. If you are professional, and treat everyone with respect, then you will receive it in return, most of the time!
Recent Comments