Alright, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to post this or not… but I just can’t… get past it.
I can’t remember the first bit, but this regular customer came into esso the other night, pretty drunk, and made a point of letting me know he was ‘pretty drunk.’
Apparently that means, “I’m going to be…
That’s straight up sexual harassment and a possible rape threat at the same time. I’d be scared for you. Shit like that just ain’t cool to say. Ever. Let alone in public to someone in Customer Service.
Needless to say I was extremely uncomfortable, but I don’t know what to do in a situation like that… Like, was I suppose to lose my shit? Make a scene? I feel like I shouldn’t have let him get away with saying that, but I’m so passive. 🙁
I work in Customer Service, for a very large grocery conglomerate, we have very clear guidelines for remarks like this, both from co-workers and from customers. The Employee being harassed has the final say. I don’t know what Esso’s policy is or your locale’s, but at the very least, you should document the situation with your supervisor. Especially if it’s a repeat customer and/or someone you actually know. That makes it easier for them to do it again.
Alright, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to post this or not… but I just can’t… get past it.
I can’t remember the first bit, but this regular customer came into esso the other night, pretty drunk, and made a point of letting me know he was ‘pretty drunk.’
Apparently that means, “I’m going to be…
That’s straight up sexual harassment and a possible rape threat at the same time. I’d be scared for you. Shit like that just ain’t cool to say. Ever. Let alone in public to someone in Customer Service.
My 90-year old Grandma mailed me a homemade vest for me to wear “to parties.” It’s… amazing.
okay inagardenbythesea, you listen to me. i can tell by ur beard & by the position of saturn that you are a good person who gets invited to a lot of parties. i’m sure you’re very fun at them. i’m sure you never bring bullshit snacks, like celery. celery? no. not you. you would never bring that crunchy foot water bullshit to parties. you’re bringing cool ranch doritos that u made with ur own hands. you brought a dish inexplicably shaped like the idea of an island that’s filled with edible cookie dough. when you order chips for the table at chipotle, you ask for quac. “I know it’s extra,” you say. flashing a smile at your companions. “this one’s on me, guys.”
because you are that Good Person, i need you to wear this vest to 90 parties, inagardenbythesea. 90 of them. and i need you to take a picture of yourself at every one, surrounded by friends or strangers u will later claim to be friends, or maybe the cops at that one party that got kind of out of hand, or maybe just a bunch of people at a 7/11 you’ve arranged to look like Your Friend Group. send all of these pictures to your grandmother, as you take them.
“look at my grandkid, Bearded McButtondown,” your grandma will tell her friends. “check out this hella fresh vest i made him. he loves it! he juuuuuust loves it.”
