Category: Harassment

harassment

Not Seeing Eye-To-Eye Here

| TX, USA | Harassment

(My soccer team’s manager is a junior who’s been indiscriminately pursuing any girl on the team who happens to be white, without success. Most of the players, as well as the manager himself, are Hispanic, which is why it stands out. I’ve heard about him from the others, but we’ve barely ever spoken and it doesn’t occur to me that I, a lowly freshman, would be on his radar. I’m also admittedly a little oblivious.)

Manager: “[My Name], how are you?”

Me: “Pretty good. You need help with the equipment?”

Manager: “You know, I love your eyes.”

Me: “Um… okay.”

Manager: “They’re beautiful, the way they shine. Like diamonds in the sky.”

Me: “That’s…nice…? So, the cones? Or I could push the ball cart.”

Manager: “I mean it.” *leaning in and staring intently* “I’ve never seen anything so beautiful.”

(Seriously confused at this point, I just look at him like he’s insane.)

Me: “Dude… they’re eyes. They’re not that interesting. You want help with the stuff or not?”

Manager: “Yeah… okay. Thanks.”

(It took me a few days to realize what he’d been getting at. He never did get any of the girls to go out with him.)

harassment

It’s A Very Old Phone Number

| The Netherlands | Harassment

(I’m a light tech at a heavy metal night at the music venue where I volunteer from time to time. After the show is over some drunk dude approaches me and puts his arm around me.)

Drunk Dude: “Hey, sweetcakes. You could maybe tell us if the show is over.”

Me: “Yep, it is.”

Drunk Dude: “So we can go home now?”

Me: “Uh-uh.”

Drunk Dude: “You wanna come with me, babe?”

Me: “I don’t think so…”

Drunk Dude: “Awww. Can you at least give me your number?”

Me: *deadpan* “Seven.”

(He looked at me like he saw water burning, while his friends were standing a few feet away yelling “buuuuuurrrrnnnn!”)

harassment

Lacking Stylus And Style

| Kansas City, MO, USA | Harassment

(While in high school I work at a grocery store. Our card reader has a stylus attached that fell off, so the manager puts up a sign that said “please use finger.” A gentleman comes up to the register with a few items.)

Me: *scans items* “Hi, how are you?”

Customer: “Fine. Just these, please.”

Me: *finishes scanning* “Your total is [total].”

Customer: *looks for stylus*

Me: “Oh, the stylus broke off. You have to use your finger.”

Customer: “That’s what she said.” *winks, creepy smile*

Me: *shocked* “Okay… Have a nice night, sir.”

Customer: “Oh, I will.” *winks again, leaves*

harassment

An Introduction Destruction

| USA | Flirting, Harassment

(My sister and I are walking down the street, when we spot a bar. Everyone there is casually dressed, including me, in pants and a shirt except for my sister, who’s dressed in an evening gown and is made up and looks like an actress. She attracts the attention of a middle aged man, who makes a beeline to her.)

Man: *to sister* “Hello. I saw you enter and I felt I had to introduce myself. My name is [Man].”

(He takes my sister’s hand and kisses it. My sister is very outgoing, so she is charmed by his nerve.)

Sister: “Oh hello. My name is [Sister] and this is my sister [My Name].”

(She gestures over to me.)

Me: “Hello.”

Man: *looks me over, wrinkles nose with disgust, and quickly looks back to my sister* “Why don’t we go sit somewhere private? Just the two of us.” *gestures to himself and my sister*

Us: *stunned*

(Needless to say, he was rejected and we went to drink by ourselves. Men, a tip: if you’re trying to score with a woman, at least pretend to be polite to her friends!)

harassment

Figure On A Customer Ogling Your Figure

| USA | Harassment

(At 19, I am employed at a sports bar and restaurant. I am often flirted with, usually in a creepy way, or even groped by various men because of my appearance. I am your typical teenage girl with long red hair and freckles. My manager lets it happen because he is the same way. This is particular incident, though, it was something happens often. This is one of my last shifts. Keep in mind I am very naïve at this age.)

Customer: “Heh, I like yer pants, there, girl. Do a little spin for me!”

Me: “Er, no. I’ll be back with your non-alcoholic drinks. [Coworker], will get you the rest?”

Customer: *upon my return* “Com’on! Gimme a spin! I’ll make it worth your while! I like me a girl who has a nice body. And you, girlie, have a perfect ten figure. D**n!”

Me: “Um, thanks, [Customer]. Can I get you anything else?”

Customer: “So, what bra size should I get you for your birthday? It’s coming up soon, right? Mmm, you look like a good B, my favorite! Why don’t you bend over a bit? Have some fun?”

Customer’s Friend: “Come on, [Customer], leave her alone. She’s just a kid.”

Customer: *practically shouting* “She has a perfect body and I want to preserve it!”

Me: *I approach my manager rather shaken, again* “I hate it when he comes here. He always treats me like a piece of meat.”

Manager: “He’s right, though. You should show more cleavage and get a better bra. It’ll earn you more tips. And be nice to him. He’s just a little drunk.”

Me: “Whatever.”

(I show up a week later with a much more revealing top with a push-up bra I never really wore. I am really going for the look they desired. I hate it, though.)

Manager: “What are you doing? You look ridiculous! No one wants to see your cleavage while they’re eating! Cover them up!”

Me: “Last week you said you wanted to see them. Which is it?”

Manager: “I can’t have you looking like a stripper. You’ll embarrass me if you keep dressing like that.”

(I quit my next shift. About five months later, I found out the bar went out of business. I don’t know why, but last I heard, my old manager was in trouble with the authorities for sexually assaulting his wife.)