A friend of mine is in college taking a course in the sociology of the imaginary. The professor comes to talk about invisibility. 

Professor: “What would you do if you could be invisible?”

Male Student #1: “I’d go in the girls’ locker room.”

Criticism instantly pops up from the class.

Male Student #2: “Seriously, at twenty years old, there are other ways to see naked girls.”

Female Student #1: “And then, there are better things to do than to see people naked without their consent.”

[Male Student #1] realizes that he has shocked everyone and tries to defend himself.

Male Student #1: “But I never said it would be non-consensual.”

Female Student #2: “Because you need to be invisible to go and watch naked chicks who are willing to let you watch them?”

I work at the front desk at a fairly nice hotel for the overnight shift. It’s not five-star fancy, but it is significantly nicer than most of the hotels in my area, and our guests tend to be wealthier individuals. 

One night, I’m working and I get a group of very loud young adults. I hit a few snags during check-in, as they want to split the payment with cash, and we don’t take cash payments after 10:00 pm. They don’t want to put the room charge on one card, because the leader of the group states that she needs enough money on her card for rent.

After some negotiating, they agree to leave a cash deposit, one member leaves a piece of ID, and I put one card on file, just for incidental purposes. In the morning, my manager can split their payment four ways and refund the card on file. The leader of the group tries to give me an EBT card.

Me: “We can’t accept EBT.”

When I finally get a valid debit card, I go over my spiel on quiet hours and some of the services we provide. One of the boys asks about room service, but I state that room service ends at 9:00 pm — it’s now after midnight — but that we do have a pantry where they can buy food. The group heads for the pantry, grabs armloads of food, and dumps them on the counter. The total comes up to fifty dollars, for which they try to use EBT AGAIN. 

Me: “Sorry, folks, but we don’t accept EBTs even for food. Do you have another form of payment?” 

Guest: “Yeah, but it’s food! you have to accept it.” 

Me: “My system literally has no way to process EBT. That’s why I can’t accept it.”

They begrudgingly agree to go to a convenience store that’s right next door. 

I think that’s the end of it when they come back and go up to their room. But nope. The guy who tried to pay with EBT keeps on coming down to the front desk. I’m supposed to greet guests every time they come to front desk, but he never wants anything. He just stands around and tries to make conversation, mostly wanting to complain about his fiancée and her friends.

The first time, I humor him for a couple of minutes, but when it’s apparent he’s at the front desk just to chat and not for any reason regarding his stay, I tell him I have work to do.

After conversation attempt number four, he starts going to the pantry and buying random snacks, and of course, I have to be at the front desk to accept payment, and he’ll stand there and just talk. 

A few of my duties involve me having to leave the front desk occasionally — to water plants, sweep, mop, make coffee, and keep the coffee bar stocked. I leave the desk once to water the plants, but the entire time, he follows me around. So, after that, I stay firmly behind the desk — locking the employee-only door — and sitting in the office, staring at security cameras. The entire time, he either sits in the lobby or goes outside for a smoke. 

My shift ends, but I have a second job to head over to, about one block away. Once the front desk girl arrives, I give her a brief update about the night and tell her I wasn’t able to tend to the coffee or sweep because of this guy following me around, and then, I head for the door. 

Almost immediately, he breaks away from his group and makes a beeline for the door, starting to walk out the same time I do. I turn around and go back to the office, telling my coworker that now he’s following me outside and I don’t feel comfortable about him and I’m worried that he’ll find out I work a second job. She goes out and distracts him whilst I escape out the side entrance and run down the block, entering my other job from the back entrance for good measure. 

After my shift, I saw a text from my manager, stating that a guy claimed to know me and wanted to know my name and when I would be back at work. My morning coworker had thankfully alerted the other employees and the manager about a creepy guest following me around, so the manager told him nothing about me. The manager left a note for all employees to never give out information about any fellow employee. 

I haven’t seen him since, but his fiancée left us a lovely review.

It’s a slow night, and I’m the only customer in the shop except for two people who already have their meals. I’m waiting at the bread station and as the other customers are paying, a rather creepy man walks in and stands in front of me, staring at me with a grin. I shake my head with a sarcastic smile, but he doesn’t move.

Creepy Customer: “Hey, enjoy your meal. That’s what matters, right?”

I sigh and decide to ignore him since I know the waitress saw me and will attend to me first, which she does. I order my sandwich; she prepares it and then proceeds to ask the man what he wants.

Creepy Customer: *Blankly* “Uh, whatcha have?”

The waitress calmly explains every type of meat and bread they have, including the Italian bread.

Creepy Customer: “I’d rather have an Italian girl, right, right?” *Smirks*

This goes on through his whole order, which takes about six minutes while I patiently wait for the — even more patient than me — waitress to finish with his order and cash me in. As I’m paying, the creepy customer suddenly just leaves without his sandwich, leaving the waitress helpless. I decide to give her a tip, which is very uncommon in France, with what’s left of my money.

Me: *Hands her the tip* “That’s for how patient and calm you were with that idiotic jerk.”

Waitress: “Oh, God. Thank you. You know what? I’m actually happy he left. I don’t want to know what he was planning to say when he’d pay.”

This story is part of the Waitstaff roundup!

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I am a French Canadian woman visiting Paris as a tourist. I am traveling by myself. I have never boarded a plane in my life before. I have never even set foot into an airport. Unfortunately, between my anxiety due to the novelty of the experience and turbulences, I’ve felt sick during most of the flight and have gotten no rest.

Adding jetlag to the equation, I’m far from my best upon arrival, so I decide to take it easy and explore the area close to my hotel on foot. I head for the Basilica of Sacré-Coeur and start climbing the long stairs in front. I try to figure out where I am supposed to enter as I am climbing, but I see no indication. A group of young men is sitting in the grass. One of them gets up and walks confidently towards me, so confidently that I’m starting to wonder if he is a volunteer for the Basilica.

He addresses me in several languages for some reason while I’m trying to figure out why he is there. He then makes a sign for me to put one hand in front of me, which I do. He gets what seems like a simple sewing thread spool out of his pocket and makes a gesture to put it around my middle finger.

As if hit by lightning, I suddenly get extremely uncomfortable at the idea of a stranger attaching anything to my body. Without thinking, I bolt away. He calls me back, but I only glance behind to make sure he is not following me while scrambling away from him as fast as I can.

The experience leaves me completely puzzled. I later ask a French friend in Paris if he has any idea what that was about and he is as clueless as I am.

Five years later, I am browsing videos at random on the Internet, from dashcam scams to tourist scams. I finally stumble on an intriguing video. It turns out that this was a variant of the “Friendship Bracelet Scam” in Montmartre, only in my case it was apparently a ring variation. If I had let him string my finger, he would have harassed me for money or one of his friends could have tried to steal from me. At last, I can make sense of what took place. As far as I can tell, this scam had yet to be widely documented at the time of my trip.

I am slightly mad at myself that I let him even approach me. I use an anti-theft bag whenever I know I might find myself distracted in a crowded area at home and take even more precautions when I travel without anyone to rely on. However, I am also very relieved that my instincts kicked in just in time to keep me out of harm’s way even if it took place in a moment I was, understandably, not as alert as usual.

The lesson I derived from the experience is that I’m likely to be most vulnerable right upon arrival. Two years later, a fake and insistent taxi driver in a New York airport also got me confused before I ever got a chance to see the multiple written warnings everywhere, but again, I escaped him and gathered my thoughts in a restroom. I’ve yet to have anything unsettling happen to me after the first day of a trip!

I am a young, rather busty female working in a coffee shop. An older guy comes in and I take his order.

Guy: “I’m looking at the artwork on your shirt. I’m not looking at your anatomy.”

Me: “Uh…”