I'm the kind of person who stresses over many things, but something peculiar has started happening where the more things are completely fucked up behind the counter the more serene I become at the register. It's really quite lovely. A coworker once told me that one of the reasons she loves opening is that you pretty much know what you're walking into and what needs to happen. It's a clean slate, I guess. That may be why I stress over mid-shifts so much - I just don't know what I'll be walking into.
But yeah, this morning was good (for me at least). Also, my manager mentioned me in the weekly store notes, saying that customers come up to her frequently to complement the drinks I have made for them. Weird, I know. I guess they're just trying to get into my pants or something. On that note, we really do get some creepy ass dudes in the store who like to leer and slip inappropriate comments into the normal business conversation. One of my other female coworkers (who is a latina [and this is relevant]) has even had a dude try and kiss her! She also has had some dudes call her "brown sugar." Gah-ross.
Hashtag Blessed, Basically
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I blog less when I'm happy. A lot less. I think that's true of everyone,
really. You're too busy experiencing the moment and spend a lot less time
moaning ...
10 years ago
1 comment:
That, I've found, is THE WORST thing about working in any kind of customer service related field. The men always think you're hitting on them.
For a while I tried exuding a wall of pure hatred when men came to ask me for help (to the point that I could actually feel myself start to sweat on some occasions). Have you tried that? In my case it actually seemed to get them even more wound up for some reason. Maybe it'll work for you.
On the other hand, it is a fine line to walk - you want to be standoffish enough to let them know that it's all business, but the sad fact of the matter is that if I lean over and flash them a quick smile, I get tipped about 75% more often.
In any case, I think that deplorable behavior is a symptom of some men believing that a subservient woman (regardless of her motivation - straight dolla billz being yours) is one they can project themselves all over in all kinds of disgusting ways - not the least of which is calling someone "brown sugar" (I have also felt the sting of that particular whip and I did not like it) - without guilt, fear of punishment, or repercussion.
That said, I would totally try to get in your pants if you helped me at Starbucks.
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