He Likes Them Green

(I am a high school sophomore who is required to log service hours, and I decide to log some at a community center’s fundraiser. I’m a biracial [black and white] female, and though I have hazel eyes that often look green, with my hair pulled up I appear decidedly African American. A middle-aged male customer walks up to my station with a few relatively inexpensive items and puts everything onto the table.)

Customer: “Hello.”

Me: *sits up straight* “Good evening, sir. Will this be all for you tonight?”

Customer: *nods* “You’re a pretty girl, honey.” *sounds somewhat creepy*

Me: *thinking that this is one of those polite compliments that adults give children* “Um, thank you.”

(I begin to enter the amounts of his items onto the iPad that is being used for transactions.)

Customer: *almost to himself* “I didn’t know they came with green eyes.”

Me: *thinking that he’s talking to himself* “Okay, sir, that comes to—”

Customer: *interrupts* “Are your eyes real, honey?”

Me: *confused* “Um, yeah, of course they are. Your total is twelve—”

Customer: *interrupts again, in a creepily soft tone* “Honey, I like green-eyed girls.”

Me: *beginning to be weirded out* “Uh, your total is twelve-fifty. Card, check, or cash?”

Customer: *suddenly gets uncomfortably close to me* “I have cash. Lots of cash. You like cash, honey? I can make you a lot of it.”

Me: *now incredibly paranoid* “Um, sir, I-I’m fifteen…”

Customer: *suddenly steps back, looks at me like I’m crazy, pulls a twenty out of his pocket, slams it onto the table, grabs his items, and hurries out*

(I was immediately switched to another position when I informed the volunteer leader. It turned out they were trying to get that guy the heck out of the fundraiser for creeping out other volunteers.)