As a young, married mom, in 1989, I took a job at a taco restaurant.

The couple who owned the restaurant were very nice, my coworkers were mostly teens of the nice variety, and it was not a boring job. I had a great time getting to know the regular customers and chatting with new ones. I wasn’t making a lot of money, which seems to be the recurring theme of my life, but it was enough to keep us ahead of the sharks.

One of the kids I worked with was [Coworker]. She was sixteen, very sweet, and very small. She just cracked me up. She blushed easily and went out of her way to be nice to everyone.

[Coworker] usually worked in the drive-thru window of our little restaurant. For some reason, she could interpret the “wah, wah, wah” that most of us heard from the tinny little speaker the customers spoke into better than the rest of us. It was easier to have her work there than to say repeatedly, “What? Could you repeat that, please?” and have the customers scream themselves into a hemorrhage.

One night, a man drove up in a Jeep with a top but no doors. [Coworker] handed his order out the window and then turned back into the kitchen, blushing bright red and nearly hyperventilating.

Owner: “[Coworker]! What’s wrong?!”

She was speechless. Once she recovered a bit, she said:

Coworker: “That man in the Jeep didn’t have any clothes on!”

Of course, he was long gone. We couldn’t get a license plate number or a description. We figured we wouldn’t see him again, but we were wrong.

At least once a week, he drove through naked in his Jeep. We called the police, and they told us that as long as he made no threat to anyone, did not say anything of a sexual nature, and stayed in his vehicle, he was not breaking any laws. Almost every time he visited, [Coworker] was working the drive-thru. I really think he did it on purpose just to see her blush. I’m sure the perverted b*****d got a real thrill out of it.

We all learned to recognize his voice over the speaker, and we tried to make sure [Coworker] wasn’t at the window when his order was ready, but out of some strange sort of pride, she usually said, “No, I will do it.”

I got tired of him doing the same stupid thing. I really liked [Coworker]. She had a sense of humor over the whole thing, and it was sort of funny, but d***!

One afternoon, I went out to the overgrown weedy lot behind the restaurant and picked a bunch of desiccated plant stalks. I brought them in, arranged them a bit, and wrapped a burrito wrapper around the bottom, sort of how they wrap bouquets of flowers. I taped it, stuck on a bow I’d found in the trash, and waited a few days for the perv to show.

He finally did, about a week later. [Coworker], of course, was working the drive-up. When she turned away from the speaker to put the order up, I grabbed the weeds and exchanged places with her. The perv drove up to the window and looked surprised to see a different face.

Me: “Hi!” *Hands him the bouquet of weeds* “We had a contest, and you won first prize for your dried arrangement!”

He looked surprised, then shocked, and then embarrassed. (Haha, “bare-a**ed”… Oh, my gosh, I crack me up.) And he drove away, squeaking his tires and leaving without his order.

He never came back, at least not while I was working there.

CONTENT WARNING: Harassment/Stalking
 

When I was in college in my early twenties, after classes, I went grocery shopping for my mother. As always when I’m outside, I was listening to music full-blast and kept daydreaming, which is why it took me some time to notice the white van that kept driving until it was next to me and stopping when it reached me — rinse and repeat until I noticed the driver.

The guy, once he had my attention, made kissing gestures and started licking his lips while looking me dead in the eyes. Very peeved at the unwanted attention, I crossed the road in front of his truck and dived into the store. Once in the shop, I shrugged the encounter off as another creep that I wished I’d never meet again, and I started browsing, still listening to my favourite tunes.

As I was looking through the store aisle for the Items I needed, something caught my eye. It was the creep.

He. Actually. Followed me. Into the store.

Astonished by the audacity of the guy, I took out an earbud.

Me: “What the h***?!”

Creep: “Hi, miss. I saw you outside, and I tried getting your attention. Didn’t you see me?”

Me: “…”

After an awkward silence, he kept going.

Creep: “Yeah… So… I’d like to get to know you better. You wanna go out for a drink?”

It took a few seconds for me to process what was happening. Creeps were nothing new, but this guy was on another level. Then, I started smiling the sweetest smile I could.

Me: “Oh, so sorry, but I don’t think my wife will agree. She’s the jealous type, you know?”

Creep: *Disgusted* “Your wife?!”

And with a revulsed look, he finally left me alone.

While I was glad to be left alone, I was angry with myself. The a**hole was in his company’s van, and I didn’t think of taking a picture of him or at least writing down the name of the company to complain to them and get the guy fired.

My best friend had a good laugh at the story. I’m not a lesbian (I’m ace), but it worked so well that we decided that if either of us had that kind of trouble again, we’d call one another and play lovebirds. The trick is still very efficient ten years later.

CONTENT WARNING: Domestic Violence (mentioned), Stalking, Threats Of Violence

One of my coworkers left a bad relationship, moving far away. A man calls the store.

Me: “Thank you for calling [Store]. This is [My Name], how can I help you today?”

Caller: “[Former Coworker].”

Me: “Sorry?”

Caller: “Get me [Former Coworker].”

Me: “We don’t have anyone by that name, sir. Could you be mistaken?”

Caller: “No. I know she works there. Get her on the phone.”

Me: “Sorry, we don’t have any employees named [Former Coworker].”

Caller: “Look, I’m just trying to find my friend, okay? I’m friends with her husband. Just get her on the phone.”

Me: “Perhaps you should call her husband, then.”

Caller: “Get [Former Coworker] on the f****** phone right f****** now, or I will come down there and beat the f*** out of you!”

Me: “I can’t get someone who isn’t here. If there’s nothing else, sir, have the day you deserve.”

I hung up the phone and documented the number. I called [Former Coworker] to tell her what had happened. It was her ex-husband on the phone, trying to track her down. She thanked me for not giving up her information and apologized for his behavior. He never came to the store to beat the f*** out of me, though.

Related:
Call… The… Police, Part 4
Call… The… Police, Part 3
Call… The… Police, Part 2
Call… The… Police!

A customer approaches me in the underwear section.

Customer: “Can I try on some different sizes of bras?”

Me: “Well, we have a fitting service if you’d like to get the best sizing—”

Customer: “No, it’s not that. I’m going to get some new boobs, and I want to get a feel for the size options!”

Me: “Oh! Well… I mean, you can certainly try them on, but we don’t have any… uh… padding?”

Customer: “Oh!”

She opens her bag and shows me a selection of what I can only guess are different sized… cleavage expanders?

Customer: “I got that part covered!”

I bring her eight different sizes, and she seems satisfied when she leaves.

A few months later, I have almost forgotten about this woman, but she reappears at the store and stands in front of me, smiling.

Customer: “Remember me? I made my choice!”

She jiggled her (much larger) boobs in front of me and departed as quickly as she’d come, leaving me to apologize and explain to the (rightfully confused) customers I was currently serving.

Related:
Making A Boob Of One Self, Part 12
Making A Boob Of One Self, Part 11
Making A Boob Of One Self, Part 10
Making A Boob Of One Self, Part 9
Making A Boob Of One Self, Part 8

In junior high, I took Texas History as a required class. My teacher wasn’t great by any standards and was a major creep. He was the type to lean way too close to female students under the guise of “helping” with classwork. 

[Teacher] was almost fired that year because numerous female students who sat near his desk saw him watching explicit videos in class. Unfortunately for the students, and fortunately for [Teacher], the school cameras didn’t work, the district didn’t care about the students, and he used incognito mode. There was “no evidence”, so he continued teaching. 

Ten years later, my mother and stepfather split up. My mother changed her relationship status to “single” and immediately started getting messages. She liked to complain about the men messaging her and used last names to differentiate between them when talking to me.

One day, she mentioned a very familiar last name.

Mother: “I keep getting messages from one guy near here. [Last Name].”

Me: “I had a teacher who was a [Last Name]. At [Town] Junior High.”

Mother: *Goes to his profile* “[Teacher’s Full Name]?”

Me: “Sounds right. He taught Texas History.”

Mother: *Looks at his occupation* “Yep, ‘Teacher at [Town] Junior High’.”

Me: *Laughs* “Gross. My old teacher is flirting with you?!”

I told her the story about [Teacher] almost getting fired.

Mother: “So, block him?”

Me: “Block him.”

My old history teacher legitimately tried to hit up my mom on [Social Media].