not always right.

There are many perks working in customer service.

The biggest “perk” would be serving folks coffee (*wink wink).

I also like sharing my love of java with those who walk through the door, a shared connection over this heavenly cup. I cherish the connections I make with guests, making friends with those I see every day at 2pm for their Midnight Sun Mocha. I beam when I see people pleased with their time aboard and I enjoy making someone’s day just a little bit better.

That is what keeps me fueled and coming back to work in this business, day after day: that bond I make with customers.

But you can’t have one good customer without experiencing the other, right?

And this weekend I had to put up with the latter.

Trying not to hurl when he brought up spanking, taking pictures of “innocent little girls”, big racks, and kissing, I uncomfortably fake- laughed at his horrible humor and hoped to goodness I would never have to see him again.

Which of course I did, the very next day.

This time, it was personal. He had been looking for me (and found me) and wouldn’t stop bothering me with small talk and slightly inappropriate conversation. Feeling stuck between putting up with this discomfort that often comes with working in customer service and wanting to run the hell away from him, it got to the point where I actually felt I was being creeped on.

He had given me a gift and talked about seeing me on the cover of Vogue (wow- haven’t heard that line before or anything…), and then he asked to take a photo of me.

As if the previous disconcerting comments weren’t enough, I had to suffer through an awkward response.

You know when you hear about harassment and creepy things old men say to young women, and you come up with all these bossy and firm “HELL NO” responses, for the next time it happens to you? (because there will always be a next time)

Well when push came to shove, I froze. I felt like this weak, powerless little mouse that forgot how to use her voice. I couldn’t say no. I wanted to, wanted to give him a look that would perfectly execute how disgusted I felt at his request, but instead, I said “I’ll be right back!” and hid.

I had already been doing this multiple times during my shift, ducking away to the kitchen in avoidance of him as he paced back and forth in front of the hostess stand, but this was different.

I couldn’t take it any longer. Frustrated at my lack of courage in standing up for myself and thoroughly pissed that I seem to have such a problem with older men hitting on me in such an indecorous manner, I held back tears, body shivering in discomfort.

Why do the guys I like never like me back, and the guys that do like me are hard- ass creepers?

Wanting so badly to have one of the male kitchen crew come out front and ask “so someone wants to take pictures of my wife?”, I thought briefly of having someone else confront him.

No, he needed to hear it from me.

Breathing deeply, I walked back out there and offhandedly told him “It’s not going to happen, you can leave,” and then he was gone.

For now.

When he finally pulled away and out of my sight (please be forever), I was still rattled.

I felt squeamish, powerless, fidgety and embarrassed, still. Bothered, I wanted to know why I hadn’t put him in his place the moment I started feeling uncomfortable, and what is it about me that invites such vile behavior?

Part of it is my role in customer service, and the years of instilled belief that the “customer is always right.” But they never talk about the behavior that you don’t have to put up with, or about the customers that you don’t have to pretend be nice to because they don’t deserve it.

I’ve had to put up with a lot of intolerable behavior from men in my short 24 years, along with nearly every other female on the planet, and I want to get to that point where I can assertively and confidently tell someone off when they’ve crossed the line and put me, or others, in obvious discomfort.

There will always be a crew of family and friends that will have my back, which brings me comfort and solace, because I know it won’t be the last time I’ll have to deal with odious men who prey on innocent girls who have been taught to put up with them because of the industry they work in.

I’ll tell you now: the customer is NOT always right, and sometimes, we have to learn that the hard way.