Women have put up with gropers for years. Enough
CHRIS “Pincher by name, Pincher by nature” Pincher began his resignation letter with the words: “Last night I drank far too much.” As mea culpas go, it was more Little Britain than Little Britain. Except there’s nothing funny about the former Deputy Chief Whip groping two men. After all, in uber-sensitive 2022, one person’s “grope” […]
CHRIS “Pincher by name, Pincher by nature” Pincher began his resignation letter with the words: “Last night I drank far too much.”
As mea culpas go, it was more Little Britain than Little Britain.
Except there’s nothing funny about the former Deputy Chief Whip groping two men.
After all, in uber-sensitive 2022, one person’s “grope” is another’s sexual assault.
Whether this turns out to be the straw that breaks Boris Johnson’s creaking, discredited back, remains to be seen.
But the optics aren’t great.
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However, what if Pincher had fondled two women?
Would he still be in office, would the fallout have been so tumultuous?
Because, as any woman across the land will tell you, being fondled — without consent — is something that just, well, happens.
I don’t know a single female who hasn’t been inappropriately groped, squeezed, pressed-up-against or man-handled in some way, shape or form.
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At every Christmas party, every after-work drinks, every leaving do.
There’s always “that bloke”.
Some creep we know to avoid, but somehow get stuck at the paper-plates buffet with.
The same creep who, seven pints in, “jokingly” fondles your bum while reaching for a chipolata, and sighing/slurring that his wife doesn’t understand him.
Aged 22, I was taken out for dinner by a grey-haired, pot-bellied, dog-breathed celebrity agent. He was 61.
The previous week he’d given me a front-page story about one of his clients, and clearly felt I owed him.
After a wine-fuelled dinner — which I paid for — I made my excuses and tried to leave.
As I got into the cab, he pressed his grim little erection against me and lunged. I ran
Nothing was ever said of it again.
My mother, a trainee solicitor in the 70s, recalls asking her first boss for a pay rise.
Two hours later, he had her pinned to the wall, saying: “Let’s talk about another kind of rise.
Obviously, she said nothing either.
As women, we’re often too scared to speak up for fear of the consequences, for fear of being labelled prudish or “sensitive”.
Cult of sleaze
It’s now emerged Boris Johnson was aware of some allegations relating to Pincher when the MP for Tamworth was appointed in February.
No 10 conceded that Johnson knew of allegations that were “either resolved or did not proceed to a formal complaint”.
And Children and Families minister Will Quince, poor bloke, was yesterday wheeled out to face telly Rottweiler Kay Burley.
Four times he refused to say if he was aware of the allegations against his octopus-tentacled colleague.
He added, insouciantly: “There are lots of rumours and gossip around Westminster. If I had a pound for every rumour I’d heard about another MP, then I’d be a very wealthy man.”
Which is a slightly telling indicator of the cult of sleaze at Westminster, no
Of course, the danger here too is that anyone will be too scared to attempt anything — not so much as a Chablis-emboldened flirt for fear of HR incrimination.
And no one, except a monk maybe, wants to live in a state-controlled monastery.
Fun and flirting are what makes the world go round.
But Pinchergate has shown us that things must change.
If men are brave enough to speak up when something is wrong, when hands stray where they shouldn’t, so must women.
Lionesses can take pride in glory hunt
WOMEN’S football has been a slow burner.
Twenty years ago the game was sluggish, sloppy and, well, a bit village-pubby.
Now, ahead of the Lionesses kicking off their Euros campaign tomorrow, the game is transformed.
Today’s players are full-time professionals, and every bit as talented and dedicated as their male counterparts.
Plus they don’t get pictured hammered in nightclubs, necking sparkler-infused Jeroboams of champagne and hitting on trout-pouting girls.
These women, like Rachel Daly are role models to young girls and boys, they have fans and large social media presences.
Thanks to sponsorship deals and endorsements, many earn around £200,000 a year – which is not too shabby by anybody’s standards.
During the London 2012 Olympics, 70,000 fans poured into Wembley to watch England beat Brazil; it was a turning point.
Since then the game has gone from strength to strength, and rightly so.
Credit must go to the BBC for investing heavily in coverage and taking a punt.
Three years ago 27 million tuned into the Beeb’s coverage of the women’s World Cup in France – the most-watched sporting event of the year.
Let’s hope this year’s Euros will be a springboard to real parity with the men – and, until then, watch our mighty Lionesses roar.
I loved my Mac F-bomb
JOHN McENROE has opened up about his legendary temper – and says 37 different therapists were unable to help him.
In a new documentary the tennis ace says: “Everything went out the window, I was crazed. Nervous energy flying all over the place. Intensity, anger.”
Too right.
One of my earliest, and fondest, childhood memories was watching McEnroe on the practice courts at Wimbledon.
Aged eight, I scrambled onto the wire fencing surrounding the court and started waving excitedly.
My ploy worked. I caught Big Mac’s attention.
“Would you just f*** off, kid?,” he bellowed, as I beamed, proudly, back. “Seriously. F*** off.”
Apparently, I later called my mum, excitedly telling her John McEnroe had spoken to me.
“He told me to go f*** myself,” I boasted.
Ah, happy days.
EASYJET’S CEO Peter Bellew has resigned after a series of flight cancellations and general chaos.
Can’t say my heart bleeds.
Presumably, though, he actually handed in his notice last month . . . but the announcement got delayed/stuck on some tarmac.
Wide of Myrkl
A HANGOVER prevention pill that claims to leave drinkers feeling fresh has gone on sale.
The Myrkl supplement breaks down booze in the gut before it reaches the liver.
The tablets reduce alcohol concentration in the blood by 70 per cent after an hour.
I’m confused.
Why would anyone in their right mind actively want to dilute booze?
It just means you have to drink more in order to get the effects, thus only magnifying our binge culture.
Which somewhat defeats the object . . .
Justin & Sigourney Beaver
SAD news in the wildlife world.
Justin Beaver, one half of the first Eurasian beavers to be reintroduced to the capital for 400 years, has been found dead – leaving his girlfriend, Sigourney Beaver, a widow.
The furry lovers – named following an inspired public vote – were housed in a special enclosure at Forty Hall Farm as part of a programme to bring the tree chompers back to the UK.
Andrea De Lucy, from Enfield Council, says: “We are very sad to have lost him. The female is fine and still plodding around and doing beavery things.”
Which sums up stoical women everywhere.
Green drive-l
THOSE dedicated environmental campaigners Harry and Meghan are at it again.
The fearless green activists – who posted on Instagram: “There is a ticking clock to protect our planet, with climate change . . . let’s save it . . . let’s do our part” – have once again been “doing their part”.
By, er, taking their gas-guzzling 4×4 on an arduous four-minute drive to see their showbiz pal, Oprah Winfrey.
As Harry himself says, “Every footprint makes a difference.”
So why bother making one when you can just hop in an SUV, eh?
U-turn’s so Keir
SIR KEIR STARMER reckons he’s a conviction politician.
So convicted is man-of-the-people Sir Keir, he’s done a spectacular U-turn and rejected Jeremy Corbyn’s previous manifesto . . . something he described as “Labour’s fundamental document” back in 2017.
He’s also now betrayed the many Remainers in his party – the very pro-EU sect who helped him get elected as leader – and declared Britain should remain outside the single market.
Even his biggest champions, The Guardian, are calling his stance on Brexit a “disgrace”.
Spineless.
THREE years ago none of us had ever heard of Zoom et al.
Now we’re all fluent in it – if, still, a little bit crap.
Take my mandatory training course last week, which was done over “Google hangout”.
Mid-course, while trying to mute myself, I accidentally high-fived the entire group, thus looking like the office’s most over-keen employee.
I then made it worse by switching on my camera and looming into the screen, frantically trying to make it stop.
Bring back real life interaction. Now.