I met this guy a while back who admitted to recognizing me from my restaurant. He said “Don’t you remember me? I was there with a big birthday party and I sat at the end of the table? You were our waitress and you couldn’t stop flirting with me”.
Granted, I do remember a lot of people; but I had never seen this guy before in my life. Obviously, he was very impressionable. I asked him what seductive moves I threw at him that night to get him so hot and bothered. “Was it the classic shoulder lean in?” “No.” “Was it the witty banter?” “No.” “Then it must’ve been the eyebrow move.” “No.”
So at this point I was totally confused. Those are my signature moves, especially the eyebrow. No one can resist nor forget the eyebrow move. My curiosity had gotten the better of me and finally I asked “What was it then?” and he said “You kept smiling and asking me if I needed anything.”
Seriously? These are the kind of people I have to deal with on a daily basis. Honey, it is MY JOB to smile and make sure you are happy and have everything you need. My livelihood depends on it. Just because I smile at you, it does not mean that I want to have ten of your babies. If I was flirting with you, you would know it. Subtlety is not a word in my flirting dictionary.
That reminds me of a few years ago when I was working in Eastport. I had just been given a new table, went to greet them, and recognized them as regulars. We chatted a bit– it’s always nice to make your regulars feel important. I got their drinks and took their order. I was walking out of the kitchen when the husband approached me and grabbed my arm. He slipped me his card, a five dollar bill, and whispered in my ear for me to call him.
Eww, even thinking about it gives me the creeps. If you actually think you may have a chance of scoring with your server you must
- a.) not be married
- b.) not approach your server when your wife is sitting twenty feet away and
- c.) you better slip me a lot more than five bucks.
The same guy actually stalked me a bit when I switched jobs. He started showing up a few times a week, sans wife of course, and would sit at the bar and order shots of tequila. Nothing impresses the ladies more than an unattractive, overweight, middle-aged man taking shots of tequila while he waits to take his carry-out home to his wife and kids. It was so bad one night that some concerned customers offered to be my parents just to scare him away. Thanks guys, I owe you one.
As a lesson to all you lonely, conceited men and women out there: if your server or bartender smiles at you and makes a point to seem genuinely interested in your meal/drink/conversation, they don’t want your body, they’re probably just doing their job.
I’m curious, anyone have any good stories about getting hit on at work?