The Workplace Emotional Booty Call

What happens when emotional labor becomes expectation—and manipulation shows up in business casual.

"You are the most feminine group of men I've ever worked with." I wish I had stopped there.

In my head, I added, “And I’ve worked with drag queens more butch than you.” That part stayed in the fantasy. In real life, I froze—because I was in HR and he was a C-suite executive—and Johnny shot out of his chair like I’d slapped him.

“Wrong. Wrong. WRONG,” he shouted, like volume would make him right.

But let me take you back.

It was a Saturday. Of course it was. The worst HR calls always happen on weekends. I took the call because that’s what you do in this role. I hit speaker, and the meltdown was already in progress.

Johnny was somewhere between sobbing and delivering a one-man show about his emotional suffering, while his wife screamed in the background about a tequila refill.

“Patty, you’re failing me. The company’s supposed to pay 100% of my healthcare. I don’t know how much longer I can hold on.”

Then she cut in—her pitch so sharp it might’ve triggered my tinnitus—screeching,

“That’s a hostile work environment! My friend in HR says so!”

I muted the call. No point talking. No one was listening.

My husband, passing by, caught about ten seconds of the audio and gave his usual deadpan:

“He sounds like a woman.”

I shot him a look. “So being a woman’s an insult now?” My Jersey accent sprinkled my words.

He nodded. “Worst thing you can call a man is a woman.”

That’s when it landed: the con.

Side note: Yes, that’s its own essay. Or maybe a book. But in that moment, his comment gave me clarity.

It helped me understand what was happening—not just on the phone, but in the pattern I’d seen for years.

I didn’t plan to call Johnny and his team feminine - It slipped out. But I’d been thinking it for a while.

Johnny’s meltdown wasn’t new. It wasn’t even remarkable.

I’d seen this act before. It felt like being back in college as an RA, listening to freshmen cry over cold showers or broken hearts.

The roles change. The behavior doesn’t. They just get older and more entitled.

Not a scam, not exactly. Just a well-worn maneuver. Something I’d witnessed dozens of times, across companies, cities, titles.

These weren’t bad men. Not exactly. But they were exhausting.

And yes, I’ve fallen for it. I’ve walked the Emotional Booty Call Walk of Shame. Just admitting that makes me shudder. It feels dirty in the way only emotional manipulation can feel. Like when a guy calls you beautiful, but only when he’s drunk and can’t remember it the next day.

This wasn’t crisis management. -

This is what I call the Workplace Emotional Booty Call.

He wasn’t looking for help. He wanted relief—and not the kind found in an HRIS or policy manual. He needed someone to listen, absorb, and validate. Someone who wouldn’t challenge him or escalate. Someone who would give him exactly what he wanted without naming the exchange for what it was.

And you know who that is?

The HR woman, the EA, the marketing lead, or the quiet woman on the team who always listens but never gets invited to the strategy sessions.

It’s always a woman. And it’s always after hours.

They reach out just enough to make it feel personal—so you can’t forward it, file it, or follow up without seeming petty. They overshare just enough chaos to create an obligation. You’re told you’re special. You “get it.” You’re not like the others.

And you listen. Because you’re trained to. Conditioned to.

By Monday, they’re fine. Or they pretend to be. They ghost you in the hallway. Avoid eye contact in meetings.

Sometimes they even brag about how calm they’ve been under pressure—right after you spent your Sunday night talking them down from an emotional ledge.

If you bring it up later, they look at you like you’re imagining things. Or worse—they weaponize politeness:

“That’s not how I remember it.”

There’s science behind this.

Women are trained—socially, emotionally, neurologically—to tune in. Empathy is expected of us. Men, especially those socialized under the “be a man” culture, are trained to repress—until they decide they can’t. And then, when they finally need an outlet, they don’t go to another man.

They go to someone safe. Someone soft.Someone who won’t throw it back in their face.

That’s where we come in.

It’s not always conscious. But it’s always convenient. And it’s not limited to HR. Every woman I know has been the emotional janitor for someone else’s unchecked mess.

The man who unloads his emotional baggage in private, then undermines you in front of your peers.The guy who praises your insight one-on-one, but never backs you up in public.The one who calls you different—but only when no one’s around.

It’s not mentoring. It’s not bonding. It’s emotional labor. And it’s transactional.

Think Russell from Survivor—always scheming, always playing the victim when it suits him.

They take your time, your care, your presence—and when they feel better, they disappear.

Not out of malice.Just habit. Until the next meltdown.Until their ego gets bruised.Until their wife yells. Until they need to feel seen, but can’t risk being seen too clearly.

And if you don’t pick up the next call? If you finally say no?

Suddenly you’re cold. You’re not a team player. You don’t care about “the people.” They start saying HR is disconnected. That we need “more emotional intelligence” in leadership.

It’s never enough.

So if this feels familiar—if you’ve been the HR Lady, or her stand-in—just know: it’s not you. It’s the system. And the system loves a con that looks like vulnerability but functions like control.

Want to shut it down?

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