Ok, I don’t think I have had this as a topic, and yet it is probably the question my friends, acquaintances, and non-server colleagues ask me the most: “How often do you get hit on?” I do get hit on, not every day, but occassionally. These are some of the stories that stick out in my memory from the last two years, not in any particular order (neither intensity nor chronological). Nothing too exciting or risque, but worth documenting I think.
A guy came into the restaurant alone on a non-busy day and sat on the patio. Since I wasn’t particularly busy, and since he was alone, I started to chat with him a bit more than usual: what brought him out that day, and other banal chit chat. He was HEAVILY tattooed, and he told me that was his next stop, to get another one. I asked what they meant, how he decided what to get where, where he went. I told him that I’d like to get a small one on the heel of my foot (true story), but that I am extremely weary because I do not like pain and want something that means something to me. He offered to take me to get my first tattoo. As I brought him his check, he said, “I’m not very good at this but…” sip of his beer in which time I considered saving him the embarrassment, but who wants to jump the gun and preemptively turn someone down only to find out they weren’t asking you out. “Can I buy you dinner some time this week?” It was the nicest way I have been asked out, possibly ever. I told this customer that I was very flattered, but I wasn’t single. He paid in cash and left before I could return with his change, meaning I ended up with a nice tip.
During a game, people stand in the bar and sit at tables without ordering anything because they are watching the game. With nothing to do one one game day, I stood in the bar as well to watch to plays. One man approached me with the line, “I’m married, but I’m bored, so I thought I’d come talk to you.” That might be the oddest way I’ve ever been approached, and to make it odder, I wasn’t even his waitress, and he knew I was a waitress. When the home team scored, he high-fived and then hugged me. Not sure if that counts as being hit on, but it was odd.
On the same day, another man approached me as I watched the game, which is against the rules when we are busy, but as I was not busy, I was allowed to watch for a brief time. This second man was not married and seemed much more eager to talk to me. I am often asked how long I have waitressed there, sometimes innocently and other times in order to find out who I am. This leads to my admitting that I only work in summers because I teach. It turns out that I taught this man’s cousin my first year. I adored this student, however, which gave this man at the bar something else to talk to me about. As I sensed the impending asking out that usually follows, “I suppose I can’t buy you a drink if you are working,” (which was what this man said to me, and something I’ve heard before), I told him that I am not allowed to loiter in one spot too long while I’m working, and left before I had to tell him I have a guy.
One table told me they wanted to “kidnap” me and take me to Ohio because they wanted me to meet their cousin. “He’d like you,” was their excuse. I said that compared to $2.83 an hour, kidnapping sounded like a deal. They laughed and left a nice tip.
I was given a phone number on a check (by someone other than a friend I knew before they sat down) once. It was a kid who had just graduated high school and was moving to Pittsburgh to attend college. I laughed and threw it away.
I had the bachelor from his bachelor party ask me to stand in front of our two-way mirror while he “used the facility” (those words in quotes are my words that I am putting in air quotes to emphasize that I just used a euphemism where this drunk bachelor did not; he was a bit cruder). I laughed at him and told him if I wanted to work in a place like that I would be making more than $2.83 an hour. The party left a great tip.
A business man came in with his family: wife and perhaps three young daughter under ten years old. He complimented the serve he received as well as the food and told me he wanted to return but would only accept me as his waitress. As his wife was there, I took it as a compliment on my work only. When she took the girls to the bathroom before they left, he pulled me aside and whispered to me again that he was very impressed with me and would be coming back the next day when his wife returned home with his children. I thanked him, and again didn’t think anything of it. When he didn’t return the next day, I wondered if his pulling me aside was his way to ask/tell me something else that he was interested in, and that I simply hadn’t picked up on it at the time. Perhaps he hadn’t returned because I hadn’t given him the proper response. I am GENUINELY hoping that is NOT the case because his wife and children were lovely. In retrospect, I do wonder.
I got a $100 tip from a man whose bill was $47. That is more than 200%! I thought it had to be a mistake, but he never came back. He didn’t leave me a number or anything, and the oddest part is that he was with a girl. Perhaps he was trying to show off for his date by throwing around a $100 bill. But when I opened the check presenter to find $147 exactly, I was shocked! Again, not really being hit on, but shady behavior non-the-less.
Some phone salesmen were in the bar one night. They quizzed me on each of their names and teased/flirted with me all night. I was happy that they were able to show me how to work my iphone I had JUST got that morning. As they left, they all gave me high-fives, except the one sober guy who had paid the bill. He leaned in and gave me an uncomfortably long hug. The tip was great, but I am always uncomfortable when the customers think we know each other well enough to hug me.
Two guys came in JUST after the kitchen had closed for the night. I told them I could make them desserts, but there was no more dinner. They decided on their desserts, and since we were almost closed, they were the only table I had. They wanted to know about the local beers, so I told them (I work in a sports restaurant/bar, so I am able to BS my way through drinks and games pretty well). Then they wanted to know about the Pirates, who continue to put up poor stats. So I talked a bit. In the middle of my scripted speech about how it all comes down to a salary cap and what is the use of getting young talent if we are going to trade them when they begin to show potential, the one man told me to stop. He said that he thought it was “so sexy” that I was talking about beer and sports. I blushed, lost my train of thought, and for the remainder of their stay tried to find a reason to avoid them because their next questions were did I have a guy and did he treat me well, and I really don’t want to talk about my personal life with strangers who are turned on by my knowledge of Troegs.
Finally, I think I wrote about my men from Texas before. They were four business men ranging from my age to perhaps 50. The one who paid the check actually asked me to be his wife, telling me that I could stay in Pittsburgh, and he would fly up to visit me from time to time. He hugged me when he left.
