I was assaulted at work, I had just turned 18. It was early morning at a hotel and just two of us were on, setting up breakfast. He was drunk – I could smell it. He followed me into a coolroom, shut the door and held me down, kissing and biting me all over. I wrestled free and ran away. Once the others arrived at work, I told them what happened. The hotel fired him, because he was drunk, not because he assaulted me. They were so proud of themselves. Everyone else in the hotel shunned me because I got him fired – I was an uptight bitch, a hard ass cunt, a fucking mole for getting this good guy sacked. In their infinite wisdom the hotel insisted I work the day out, it was pure hell. Everyone hated me. When I got home and told me mum, she very nervously laughed it off. I never told anyone else. Why bother. I was the bad guy right?