(I work in a little, family-owned ice cream shop and, during this incident, I am working alone. While the shop owner is there with me, at this particular time he is just outside, chatting with some friends. It’s not uncommon for us to get bikers coming in. Though they look intimidating, they’re usually extremely lovely customers and I enjoy it when they come in. Two men ride up on motorcycles, both decked out in tattoos and leather. They’re a father-son duo, about 60 years old and 40, respectively. I greet them as they come in.)
Father: “Well, look at you, pretty in pink!
Me: “Thank you! Is there anything I can get for you or do you need some time to look at our selection?”
Father: Depends. Are you on the menu?
(I’m a 20-year-old girl, but I have a serious case of baby-face, so even with make-up on, I can barely pass for sixteen or seventeen.)
Me: “Uh… no.”
Son: “That’s a shame. I’d like to have you for dessert.”
(They order and, as I go to make their ice cream, they continue making extremely sexual comments about me. I don’t put any effort into hiding my discomfort, but they continue.)
Me: *handing them their ice cream AND trying to get them out of there as quickly as possible* “Is there anything else I can get for you?”
Son: “How old are you, sweetheart? Sixteen?”
Me: “No. Twenty, actually. Is there—“
Father: “Twenty? I never would’ve thought.”
Son: “Me, neither. I guess I don’t have to feel so bad about the things I was imagining doing with you.”
(Between the tone of voice, the hand gesture he makes, and the wink, there’s no mistaking what he means.)
(I was too horrified to respond, and they left to eat their ice cream on the patio. They came in quite a few times, asking for everything from napkins to whether I could show them where our bathroom is (we don’t have one, fortunately) before they left. I wanted nothing more than to go for a long, hot shower to wash the memory of that encounter. One good thing that did come out of it, though, is that the store’s owner told me that if a customer ever treats me that way again, I’m allowed to refuse service!)