“Did I miss something?” Jessica asks.

I bite the inside of my cheek to give myself enough self-control to turn back with a straight face and answer, “Not at all. I, for one, am just excited to see Cheryl taking to the training so well.”

Whether it’s my deadpan delivery or the ridiculousness of my explanation doesn’t really matter, because Cheryl is now covering her mouth, her body convulsing with stifled laughter.

“Jessica,” I say, trying to draw attention away from Cheryl, “I was wondering if it might be a good idea to go over the nightly money drop with Cheryl.”

“That’s a good idea,” Jessica says in a stilted professional voice.

The distraction is, thankfully, enough for Cheryl to compose herself, but Jessica is so adorably new to this that it’s difficult for either Cheryl or me to keep a serious expression.

It’s not Jessica’s fault. It’s really not.

Yeah, she probably should have done this a few years ago, but this is new to her as well and the last thing I want to do is make her feel self-conscious about it.

That said, when Jessica tells Cheryl to separate out all the cash and coinage by denomination and then goes on to give the long list of possible bills and coins—including a brief interlude regarding what to do with foreign currency—I have to turn away again to hide my smile.

Sadly, although Jessica can’t see me, Cheryl can and the renewal of my unintentional mirth at Jessica’s micromanaging currency to the point of giving different kinds of bills nicknames by region, Cheryl lets loose with a single burst.

She quickly covers her mouth and manages to stifle anything else and that would probably be that if Jessica hadn’t just turned toward me to see what was so funny and find me biting on my finger to keep my own reaction in check.

“What is going on?” she asks.

“Nothing,” I tell her. “I was just standing here and I kind of lost my balance. I’m sorry. Maybe we should move on to disputes between employees.”

I know I’m busted because there’s a little vein in Jessica’s forehead that becomes not so little when she’s upset. It’s a vein I’ve seen before many times.

Luckily for me, though, Jessica turns back toward Cheryl and we move on.

As we’re talking through what kind of dispute we’re going to have, Jessica asks me, “Okay, I don’t know what’s going on, but could you do me a favor and just be a professional for a little longer?”

“Absolutely,” I tell her.

“Okay,” Jessica says and takes a breath. “Should we cover sexual harassment?”

“I think we better,” I tell her.

“Okay,” she says, “I’ll harass you.”

Without any input from my conscious mind, my eyes go wide, my mouth curls up and I snort.

“What?” she asks.

“I’m sorry,” I tell her. “It’s just the way you said that.”

I would go on to tell her that I’m wondering if anyone’s ever actually said that combination of words before, but she’s giving me the evil eye now, so I keep that information to myself.

“All right,” Jessica says. “We’re going to act out one of the more serious things you may face as an assistant store manager: sexual harassment. Let’s do one run where you step in in whatever way you think appropriate and we’ll go over any areas that might need some sort of attention.”

“Sounds good,” Cheryl answers.

“All right,” Jessica says quietly to me. “I’m going to stand here and act like I’m going through inventory. You walk by and I’ll say something to you.”

“You got it, boss,” I answer and I take a few steps back.

“And go,” Jessica says.

I start walking.

As I get close, Jessica looks up at me and then down at my crotch and says, “Hey, man. Nice dick.”

I don’t want to laugh at her. I really don’t.

Jessica’s trying so hard and it is so endearing. She’s new to this, and I know how important this is to her.

That said, I just walked by her and looking at my crotch, she actually said, “Hey man. Nice dick.”

There’s nothing I can do about it. It’s out of my hands.

After all, I’m only human.

I bend forward, gasping for air as I can feel my eyes filling with tears and my face going red.

Cheryl’s hooting somewhere behind me, and I’m trying as hard as I can to get the words, “I’m sorry” out of my mouth, but it’s just not working properly.

When I finally manage to stand upright, Jessica’s smiling, but I can tell it’s at least partially forced.

“I am so sorry,” I tell her. “I was just not prepared for that.”

“That’s okay,” Jessica says, still smiling, though her teeth are tightly gritted. “Let’s just see if we can stay in character and get through this.”

“All right,” I say, clearing my throat and trying to take slow, even breaths. “I’m sorry, what did you just say?” I ask.

That was the stupidest response I could have uttered because that only leaves her with one option of what to say next.

“I said you’ve got a nice dick,” she says.

My lips thin, but I manage to remain quiet.

“I wish you wouldn’t say that—”

Yeah, that’s about as much as I can get through before I’m doubled up again.

The worst part, I know, is that Cheryl’s over there cracking up, too.

No, sexual harassment is not funny and this is a very, very important thing for a new manager to know how to deal with, but holy shit.

I right myself as quickly as possible, but the motion gives me a head rush and I have to assume a crouching position to make sure I don’t simply faint.

Cheryl takes this as me being unable to contain myself and so she starts laughing even harder, even though I’m trying to wave her off as I stand back up again.

I clear my throat again and I have to look past the hardly-bridled anger on Jessica’s face so I can calmly respond, “I wish you wouldn’t say that to me. It makes me feel uncomfortable and I’d like you to stop.”

“Oh, quit being such a baby,” Jessica says. “You know you can’t walk around in pants like that and not expect people to notice what you’ve got hanging between your legs.”

I’ve managed to put a lid on my own reactions by this point, but Cheryl’s still having trouble.

To try to diffuse the situation, or at least give Jessica something else to focus on for a moment, I lean forward and ask, “Should we have this be a situation that she observes, or should I approach her with it as a complaint?”

“Approach her with it as a complaint,” Jessica says, at this point just wanting the roleplay to be over.

I feel absolutely terrible, but it’s hard not to smile as I turn to see Cheryl standing there with tears streaming down her red face as her shoulders jerk forward and back.

“Mrs…” I start, but turn back toward Jessica as I don’t know Cheryl’s last name.

“Masters,” Jessica whispers to me.

“Mrs. Masters,” I start again, turning back toward Cheryl. “Something’s been going on and it’s making me very uncomfortable.”

Cheryl takes a deep breath, but can’t quite manage to ditch the smile as she asks, “What’s going on, Mr. Dawson?”

“It’s Jessica,” I tell her, doing everything within my power to portray an air of someone who’s really bothered by the situation as again, this is a very serious thing. “She’s been making inappropriate comments toward me. I’ve asked her to stop, but she won’t listen to me.”

Cheryl leans toward me and asks, “When I call Jessica over to talk, am I supposed to keep you in the room as a witness, or do I talk to her alone?”

“Personally, I’d suggest talking to her alone so the victim’s not on the spot,” I answer. “This sort of thing always requires some sort of action, whether it’s an investigation or firing the offender, so it’s good to talk to both parties alone, especially at first. Depending on how far the investigation goes, you may or may not need to have them in the same room at the same time.”

“What do you mean ‘how far the investigation goes?’” Cheryl asks.