NO TOUCHY
Y'know, normally, I'd find an artist-related venue to bitch this in, but today, I really don't feel like it. Most of the people who read my LJ are artists themselves, or good friends with artists enough that they know almost exactly how it feels.
I feel a low blood-sugar shakey coming on as I type this, so as I work myself up into a good lather, I might get curse-y, so if you're not in the mood, feel free to by-pass the cut!
Now, I know I shouldn't do this. I know it. But yet I did.
What am I talking about? Drawing (or in this case, inking) at work. Because it's practically the only place I have time or attention span for it anymore.
Now, I've had problems in the past with this. Just recently, it's been:
1) Co-worker's aunt who pronounced my fairies and elves 'demonic' and suggested I draw scenes from The Passion of the Christ, instead. ("Oh your art isn't demonic - but fairies and demons are!" "... Yeah, I knew that's what you meant." - and I did.)
2) People EATING their icecream (drippy!) over my pieces.
3) People sitting down AT MY TABLE to eat NEXT to my stuff. I mean. WTF. This table is occupied, assholes. There are five other EMPTY tables, take one of those, plz.
4) A child who (very lightly, granted) dragged my pencil over my sketch (but didn't draw over the actual sketch as far as I could tell), then tried to erase some of it before her parents caught her. (They actually didn't catch her, I saw her doing the erasing and I think I was too horrified and shocked that she was doing this, that I could literally not say a word and politeness took over and I said nothing.)
The other day... I don't remember which, I've been working several straight days (but I know it wasn't today!) a group came into the store.
I have come up with the policy that I will leave my artwork on the table and leave it out if I'm getting a drive-thru customer. If there is a walk-in group ("Parker! >_< "), I'll close the notebook or put a sheet of paper over my drawing if I see kids under the age of 12 or so. (This new rule implemented since the 5-7 year old lightly drew on my paper.) If there is a 'rush' and at least three of the six tables are occupied, I will take my stuff to the back.
Let me pause here - the reasons I don't draw in the back are because:
1) The freezers are back there. It's freaking COLD, buddy. (Particularly during the winter. PARTICULARLY if people's orders have us going in and out of the freezer.)
2) The tables back there are at a height comfortable for food preparation. Meaning, they're about belly-button high on me - or slightly higher. Our chairs are set much lower, which means when I sit down, the table is about level with my boobs. That means I would have to get up on my knees to get at the approximate height conducive to artage. I have issues with my knees in general, but putting weight on them for long periods of time makes them angry. :P
Anyway. So I think at this point, I had a few drive-thru customers in a row. Then I see two trucks pull in and disgorge four people. All are over the age of 13. (An older couple in their 50's or 60's and I suppose their 30-something daughter and her 15-ish son.) So I leave my things out, knowing that they'll probably be eat-in customers and I am naieve in thinking that they are all old enough to know better than to touch.
I'm taking the older-mother's order (a banana split, very specific) when I am distracted by movement coming from my table. As I echo the lady's specific-banana-split order back at her to make sure I've got it right, I watch as the 30-something mother thumbs through my folder. This is not one of those art sketchbooks things, people, this is my zip-up 3-ring binder. I was in the process of either inking or erasing a picture of an old man/druid and this woman is literally going page by page through sketches, finished products and my fucking school work.
I mean... WHAT. THE. FUCK. WHAT.
How can you not have reached the age of 30 - hell, even 15 - without realizing that just because something is sitting there, you are not invited to touch it before recieving permission???? WHAT THE HELL, PEOPLE.
If it was an art sketchbook, I would still be annoyed, but I would have kept it to myself because - hell - if I were asked, I'd just hand a sketchbook over. But, no, this is my BINDER. I have things in there not meant for other eyes. I mean, yeah, okay, the only porn in there is a half-finished sketch I put into a pocket at the back of my folder by some miracle of foresight. But you never know what people will consider 'offensive' or 'porn'. I did not expect cute fairies and elves to be considered 'demonic', but they were called such to my face! I wouldn't figure that a figure that is unclothed is automatically 'porn' (even with lack of nipples or other some such) - but I'll bet you the MINUTE I leave out an unclothed female figure that I haven't yet added cloth to, someone's going to see it and call up my boss and get me fired for drawing porn.
When I have unclothed figures at work, I take the precaution of putting another picture or sheet of paper on top of it to avoid offending anyone - but if you go thumbing through my fucking binder and you run across something that offends you - what am I going to do? I'd already gone through enough trouble! If I had left my half-finished porn in with the rest of it, and this woman had come across it, I'll bet you ANYTHING she would have been shrieking her offense like a good little Christian Lamb of God and the Baby Jesus as if I had shoved it in her face and sang, "COOCHIE COOCHIE HA HA HA". (For the very curious, no, it's not even all that porn-ish, but the pose is questionable; even though I think it's very pretty, I am not uploading it anywhere for anyone - I'm handing it directly to Chris.)
I'm just... utterly astounded that this woman felt free to touch and look and flip and whatever else she did while I made the older woman's banana split and my back was turned. I felt myself turning all sorts of shades of rage-red.
I probably should have said something. I probably should have stopped making the banana split and walked around the counter and took the lady's purse and fumbled through it. Because that's what it felt like to me. It offended me deeply and it bothers me that I let my "I'm at work and if I do or say something and they complain, Terry could fire me for drawing on the job or something" mentality take over.
But I did not do something. And I did not say something.
But before these people even left, I went into the back and got a piece of a cake box and wrote, "Thank-You for not touching the art or supplies. -The artist!" and slid it into a clear pouch thing. So on the left, the folder is open to this "Do not touch, asswipes" message and on the right is whatever I'm working on.
I'll take my chances with people eating over my stuff. But I WILL freaking say something and try to get someone to freaking PAY ME for any damages they or their children make to my stuff that way. But I'm not doing NOTHING to protect myself.
Honestly? I LOVE it when customers stop to look at my stuff. Love it. Which is why I leave it out rather than putting it up. You never know how your breaks will be made, do you? Maybe some fantasy-book publisher will walk in, see my stuff and say, "hey, are you interested in writing and illustrating your own stuff?" and I'll say, "Boy! Howdy!" and after I finish up all my other obligations (which I'm working on - honest), I will, too! Damnit! With or without this icecream-eating-publisher!
But, anyway. This is about my ranting.
And I don't mind people even handling my stuff. I've handed customers a sketchbook before - and they weren't even regular customers! I don't mind sharing - if you ask. I would have said, "OH sure, one sec and let me finish this banana split and I'll show you some of my prettier pieces!" (I had two other inked pieces in the folder and several sketches I can't wait to finish.) But, no - she thumbed through it without permission. At all.
Fuck it. Bastards. Just.. no class, no respect, no ANYTHING.
A semi-related rant, but this one did happen today! WHwee! ... I'll cut this too, seeing as it's getting long as I'm writing it and I'm not done yet! (I got hit on - but in relation to my art! sorta.)
Okay, along with customers liking my art... There was this... like.. 30-something man who came in and commented on my art. And then he started hitting on me. I dropped the B-Bomb (boyfriend) a few times and he stopped being obvious about it, at least - but he still hit on me. He actually kept me talking to him while the drive-thru alarm went off - even though I was backing up, he kept asking me questions. That actually got my manager up so SHE answered the drive-thru, but it was still very-very rude. At some point (probably before the customer-thing) I gave him either my S7 or DA account url so I could stop showing him my shit so I could do work-things. (But, obviously, it didn't work like I thought it would.) Anyway, I helped fix up that customer or something and hid in the back until he left. It was a long wait. ;p
Today, he came in again and I totally didn't recognise him. (Like I'm supposed to remember EVERY older man who hits on me? :P ) He came in as I was making another order and out of the corner of my eye as I turned to pour a milkshake or something into a cup, I see my manager ask to help him and I saw him point to me, but I didn't hear what he said. My brain said, "Did he just say he was here to talk to me? I don't know him! I must have misunderstood and he was pointing at the menu or something..." He told my manager to get the other customer while he looked. We both took care of two or three customers and when I was done, I went over to him to help him.
"Do you remember me?" he asks me. Total blank. He quickly fills in, "I'm the guy who really liked your art!" Dude, I suddenly DO remember you because you have awful hair and creeped me out like a month or so ago, not because you liked my art - half the customers who view my art specifically ask, "Who's the artist?" so they can compliment me. I literally could not remember every face of every person who liked my art, as much as I wish I could remember the friendly people - and not the creepy people.
I'm like, "Oh... yeah. Uh - what can I help you with?"
And he doggedly persues the conversation he wants, even though we'd recently been busy and I expected to still be busy the next hour and did not want to talk to creepy-older-man. "I checked out that website and your art is very nice!" "Oh, thanks, I apprecia-" "And so are your personal photos!"
[record-scratch SFX] What? Since when is this appropriate conversation for an older man to have with a younger girl at her job?
I don't know how I look in my photos, those who have never met me in person. But at work, with no make-up and my hair pulled back in a tight ponytail (the better not to get hair in your food, my dear), I'm often mistaken for about 17 years old. I've had to offer to prove it with my DL or military ID because people were so insistant that I was messing with them - I couldn't possibly be 24.
So this guy could NOT be any younger than 27 - with a generous allowance of "maybe he just looks old due to prematurely thinning and greying hair and old-skool glasses - and possibly is closer to his early 40's. And he's hitting on someone who, from all apperances, is about 10 years younger - perhaps more. How is this not wrong and creepy - even after he had access to my real age, thanks to the Intraweb?
"And so are your personal photos!" (Being nice or beautiful or something.... I'm picking up the conversation with Mr. Creepy.)
"Er, thanks. What can I get you?" I cast a half-horrified, "make sure he doesn't attempt to grab me" look over my shoulder at my manager, who was getting another customer.
I can't even remember what it was. I was annoyed and angry and annoyed and angry enough that if he somehow stumbles across this LJ post in some stalkery blah-blah, I don't care. And, also, please don't come back to the store! I know that's bad salesmanship, but I get paid whether YOU, specifically, come back or not. I don't get paid by compensation unless you tip me - and tips ain't exactly plentiful these days, so I don't expect them the way a waitress does (even though I do a waitress's job, soemtiems. ;p )
Anyway. I thought I was done with him until he said to me, "So, when are you (something)?" "Eh?" "You know, a show or a gallery showing or something?" and I'm like, "Uuh.." 'cause the drive-thru was going off again. "I just sell my stuff online." And I walked off and left him to get the customer. Then I hid in the back with the manager as long as I could, only come out again like... two or three times while he was there to get a customer or put away the toppings I was filling for the topping bar.
GROSS.
I'm actually very seriously considering quitting my job, just to have extra time for these last two classes for college. I could concentrate on them to the fullest and while I wouldn't have money coming in, it would give me a better chance of finding a paying (period, not well paying, just PAYING) internship in SD.
But I won't. Because my parents can't afford to pay my rent for me down in SD, particularly not when they want to build that house up at the lake. Particularly since Ryan's in a frat now. Particularly since we're still helping out Rustin a bit. I also couldn't do that to the people up at work - I've promised them until mid-April at the earliest and mid-July at the latest before I quit. ;p
RANT.
I feel a low blood-sugar shakey coming on as I type this, so as I work myself up into a good lather, I might get curse-y, so if you're not in the mood, feel free to by-pass the cut!
Now, I know I shouldn't do this. I know it. But yet I did.
What am I talking about? Drawing (or in this case, inking) at work. Because it's practically the only place I have time or attention span for it anymore.
Now, I've had problems in the past with this. Just recently, it's been:
1) Co-worker's aunt who pronounced my fairies and elves 'demonic' and suggested I draw scenes from The Passion of the Christ, instead. ("Oh your art isn't demonic - but fairies and demons are!" "... Yeah, I knew that's what you meant." - and I did.)
2) People EATING their icecream (drippy!) over my pieces.
3) People sitting down AT MY TABLE to eat NEXT to my stuff. I mean. WTF. This table is occupied, assholes. There are five other EMPTY tables, take one of those, plz.
4) A child who (very lightly, granted) dragged my pencil over my sketch (but didn't draw over the actual sketch as far as I could tell), then tried to erase some of it before her parents caught her. (They actually didn't catch her, I saw her doing the erasing and I think I was too horrified and shocked that she was doing this, that I could literally not say a word and politeness took over and I said nothing.)
The other day... I don't remember which, I've been working several straight days (but I know it wasn't today!) a group came into the store.
I have come up with the policy that I will leave my artwork on the table and leave it out if I'm getting a drive-thru customer. If there is a walk-in group ("Parker! >_< "), I'll close the notebook or put a sheet of paper over my drawing if I see kids under the age of 12 or so. (This new rule implemented since the 5-7 year old lightly drew on my paper.) If there is a 'rush' and at least three of the six tables are occupied, I will take my stuff to the back.
Let me pause here - the reasons I don't draw in the back are because:
1) The freezers are back there. It's freaking COLD, buddy. (Particularly during the winter. PARTICULARLY if people's orders have us going in and out of the freezer.)
2) The tables back there are at a height comfortable for food preparation. Meaning, they're about belly-button high on me - or slightly higher. Our chairs are set much lower, which means when I sit down, the table is about level with my boobs. That means I would have to get up on my knees to get at the approximate height conducive to artage. I have issues with my knees in general, but putting weight on them for long periods of time makes them angry. :P
Anyway. So I think at this point, I had a few drive-thru customers in a row. Then I see two trucks pull in and disgorge four people. All are over the age of 13. (An older couple in their 50's or 60's and I suppose their 30-something daughter and her 15-ish son.) So I leave my things out, knowing that they'll probably be eat-in customers and I am naieve in thinking that they are all old enough to know better than to touch.
I'm taking the older-mother's order (a banana split, very specific) when I am distracted by movement coming from my table. As I echo the lady's specific-banana-split order back at her to make sure I've got it right, I watch as the 30-something mother thumbs through my folder. This is not one of those art sketchbooks things, people, this is my zip-up 3-ring binder. I was in the process of either inking or erasing a picture of an old man/druid and this woman is literally going page by page through sketches, finished products and my fucking school work.
I mean... WHAT. THE. FUCK. WHAT.
How can you not have reached the age of 30 - hell, even 15 - without realizing that just because something is sitting there, you are not invited to touch it before recieving permission???? WHAT THE HELL, PEOPLE.
If it was an art sketchbook, I would still be annoyed, but I would have kept it to myself because - hell - if I were asked, I'd just hand a sketchbook over. But, no, this is my BINDER. I have things in there not meant for other eyes. I mean, yeah, okay, the only porn in there is a half-finished sketch I put into a pocket at the back of my folder by some miracle of foresight. But you never know what people will consider 'offensive' or 'porn'. I did not expect cute fairies and elves to be considered 'demonic', but they were called such to my face! I wouldn't figure that a figure that is unclothed is automatically 'porn' (even with lack of nipples or other some such) - but I'll bet you the MINUTE I leave out an unclothed female figure that I haven't yet added cloth to, someone's going to see it and call up my boss and get me fired for drawing porn.
When I have unclothed figures at work, I take the precaution of putting another picture or sheet of paper on top of it to avoid offending anyone - but if you go thumbing through my fucking binder and you run across something that offends you - what am I going to do? I'd already gone through enough trouble! If I had left my half-finished porn in with the rest of it, and this woman had come across it, I'll bet you ANYTHING she would have been shrieking her offense like a good little Christian Lamb of God and the Baby Jesus as if I had shoved it in her face and sang, "COOCHIE COOCHIE HA HA HA". (For the very curious, no, it's not even all that porn-ish, but the pose is questionable; even though I think it's very pretty, I am not uploading it anywhere for anyone - I'm handing it directly to Chris.)
I'm just... utterly astounded that this woman felt free to touch and look and flip and whatever else she did while I made the older woman's banana split and my back was turned. I felt myself turning all sorts of shades of rage-red.
I probably should have said something. I probably should have stopped making the banana split and walked around the counter and took the lady's purse and fumbled through it. Because that's what it felt like to me. It offended me deeply and it bothers me that I let my "I'm at work and if I do or say something and they complain, Terry could fire me for drawing on the job or something" mentality take over.
But I did not do something. And I did not say something.
But before these people even left, I went into the back and got a piece of a cake box and wrote, "Thank-You for not touching the art or supplies. -The artist!" and slid it into a clear pouch thing. So on the left, the folder is open to this "Do not touch, asswipes" message and on the right is whatever I'm working on.
I'll take my chances with people eating over my stuff. But I WILL freaking say something and try to get someone to freaking PAY ME for any damages they or their children make to my stuff that way. But I'm not doing NOTHING to protect myself.
Honestly? I LOVE it when customers stop to look at my stuff. Love it. Which is why I leave it out rather than putting it up. You never know how your breaks will be made, do you? Maybe some fantasy-book publisher will walk in, see my stuff and say, "hey, are you interested in writing and illustrating your own stuff?" and I'll say, "Boy! Howdy!" and after I finish up all my other obligations (which I'm working on - honest), I will, too! Damnit! With or without this icecream-eating-publisher!
But, anyway. This is about my ranting.
And I don't mind people even handling my stuff. I've handed customers a sketchbook before - and they weren't even regular customers! I don't mind sharing - if you ask. I would have said, "OH sure, one sec and let me finish this banana split and I'll show you some of my prettier pieces!" (I had two other inked pieces in the folder and several sketches I can't wait to finish.) But, no - she thumbed through it without permission. At all.
Fuck it. Bastards. Just.. no class, no respect, no ANYTHING.
A semi-related rant, but this one did happen today! WHwee! ... I'll cut this too, seeing as it's getting long as I'm writing it and I'm not done yet! (I got hit on - but in relation to my art! sorta.)
Okay, along with customers liking my art... There was this... like.. 30-something man who came in and commented on my art. And then he started hitting on me. I dropped the B-Bomb (boyfriend) a few times and he stopped being obvious about it, at least - but he still hit on me. He actually kept me talking to him while the drive-thru alarm went off - even though I was backing up, he kept asking me questions. That actually got my manager up so SHE answered the drive-thru, but it was still very-very rude. At some point (probably before the customer-thing) I gave him either my S7 or DA account url so I could stop showing him my shit so I could do work-things. (But, obviously, it didn't work like I thought it would.) Anyway, I helped fix up that customer or something and hid in the back until he left. It was a long wait. ;p
Today, he came in again and I totally didn't recognise him. (Like I'm supposed to remember EVERY older man who hits on me? :P ) He came in as I was making another order and out of the corner of my eye as I turned to pour a milkshake or something into a cup, I see my manager ask to help him and I saw him point to me, but I didn't hear what he said. My brain said, "Did he just say he was here to talk to me? I don't know him! I must have misunderstood and he was pointing at the menu or something..." He told my manager to get the other customer while he looked. We both took care of two or three customers and when I was done, I went over to him to help him.
"Do you remember me?" he asks me. Total blank. He quickly fills in, "I'm the guy who really liked your art!" Dude, I suddenly DO remember you because you have awful hair and creeped me out like a month or so ago, not because you liked my art - half the customers who view my art specifically ask, "Who's the artist?" so they can compliment me. I literally could not remember every face of every person who liked my art, as much as I wish I could remember the friendly people - and not the creepy people.
I'm like, "Oh... yeah. Uh - what can I help you with?"
And he doggedly persues the conversation he wants, even though we'd recently been busy and I expected to still be busy the next hour and did not want to talk to creepy-older-man. "I checked out that website and your art is very nice!" "Oh, thanks, I apprecia-" "And so are your personal photos!"
[record-scratch SFX] What? Since when is this appropriate conversation for an older man to have with a younger girl at her job?
I don't know how I look in my photos, those who have never met me in person. But at work, with no make-up and my hair pulled back in a tight ponytail (the better not to get hair in your food, my dear), I'm often mistaken for about 17 years old. I've had to offer to prove it with my DL or military ID because people were so insistant that I was messing with them - I couldn't possibly be 24.
So this guy could NOT be any younger than 27 - with a generous allowance of "maybe he just looks old due to prematurely thinning and greying hair and old-skool glasses - and possibly is closer to his early 40's. And he's hitting on someone who, from all apperances, is about 10 years younger - perhaps more. How is this not wrong and creepy - even after he had access to my real age, thanks to the Intraweb?
"And so are your personal photos!" (Being nice or beautiful or something.... I'm picking up the conversation with Mr. Creepy.)
"Er, thanks. What can I get you?" I cast a half-horrified, "make sure he doesn't attempt to grab me" look over my shoulder at my manager, who was getting another customer.
I can't even remember what it was. I was annoyed and angry and annoyed and angry enough that if he somehow stumbles across this LJ post in some stalkery blah-blah, I don't care. And, also, please don't come back to the store! I know that's bad salesmanship, but I get paid whether YOU, specifically, come back or not. I don't get paid by compensation unless you tip me - and tips ain't exactly plentiful these days, so I don't expect them the way a waitress does (even though I do a waitress's job, soemtiems. ;p )
Anyway. I thought I was done with him until he said to me, "So, when are you (something)?" "Eh?" "You know, a show or a gallery showing or something?" and I'm like, "Uuh.." 'cause the drive-thru was going off again. "I just sell my stuff online." And I walked off and left him to get the customer. Then I hid in the back with the manager as long as I could, only come out again like... two or three times while he was there to get a customer or put away the toppings I was filling for the topping bar.
GROSS.
I'm actually very seriously considering quitting my job, just to have extra time for these last two classes for college. I could concentrate on them to the fullest and while I wouldn't have money coming in, it would give me a better chance of finding a paying (period, not well paying, just PAYING) internship in SD.
But I won't. Because my parents can't afford to pay my rent for me down in SD, particularly not when they want to build that house up at the lake. Particularly since Ryan's in a frat now. Particularly since we're still helping out Rustin a bit. I also couldn't do that to the people up at work - I've promised them until mid-April at the earliest and mid-July at the latest before I quit. ;p
RANT.