Oh wow.
Well. Apparently my other manager is a sexual pervert.
I've long suspected the fact that he's.... flirtatious, to say the least, but yesterday took the proverbial pervert cake.
I'm used to him standing next to me at the host station, which is of course located at the door of the restaurant, so it's naturally the gathering place for servers and managers when it slows down. I'm also used to comments like, "...There's a lot of hot girls tonight," and things of that sort-- and not to digress, but there's of course the instance where he grabbed my special pen to jot something down when he was on the phone, and I, of course, joked, "What are you going to give me for that?" The creepiness progressed like so:
Me: "What are you going to give me?" (completely joking. COMPLETELY JOKING.)
Manager Matt: "I don't know. ...What do you want? What do you need most of all?"
Me: "Ummm, er... uh..... I... don't... know..."
Manager Matt: "Well, you think about it, and let me know." (Creepy moment) ::Reaches out and puts his hand over mine. Except not a pat-- a hand-grab pat.
And I was hosting at about 7:30 yesterday, when the aforementioned pervy Manager came over and informed me that his parents would be coming to Titletown to eat that night, so I should seat them in a booth in the Ticket Office. So, they came, I seated them, pleasantries were exchanged, we downed a few bottles of wine, and smoked a few cuban cigars (I'm obviously joking), and about an hour later, they left, and his father waved goodbye to me. A little while after that, Matt came downstairs and stood next to me, and I said, "Your dad's a nice guy." And he said, "Why, did he say you'd make a great daughter-in-law?"
I was like, "Um...no. ..No, he didn't." ((WHAT THE HECK?!))
And then he's like, "Did he say, 'Who's that fiery redhead by the door?'"
I didn't even know what to say. Except, "...Er........uh.....er............ No."
I couldn't believe it. He is my MANAGER. He is 28 years old. He is my MANAGER.
AND THEN later that night, he was talking to a server about a girl they obviously both knew, and again, he was standing right next to me, and he said, "I heard she got hot." The other guy was like, "Yeah, I guess she lost some weight." And my manager's like, "I heard she gives good blowjobs."
And as soon as he said it, he burst out laughing and slapped me on the back.
It was disgusting.
I liked him a lot before I knew he was so creepy. I really did.
And, the thing is-- he's not some eighty year old, one-legged ogre. He's just a regular guy.
Oh man. That's so horribly disconcerting.
Oh man.
I feel like a.... prostitute. UGH.
UGH
I've long suspected the fact that he's.... flirtatious, to say the least, but yesterday took the proverbial pervert cake.
I'm used to him standing next to me at the host station, which is of course located at the door of the restaurant, so it's naturally the gathering place for servers and managers when it slows down. I'm also used to comments like, "...There's a lot of hot girls tonight," and things of that sort-- and not to digress, but there's of course the instance where he grabbed my special pen to jot something down when he was on the phone, and I, of course, joked, "What are you going to give me for that?" The creepiness progressed like so:
Me: "What are you going to give me?" (completely joking. COMPLETELY JOKING.)
Manager Matt: "I don't know. ...What do you want? What do you need most of all?"
Me: "Ummm, er... uh..... I... don't... know..."
Manager Matt: "Well, you think about it, and let me know." (Creepy moment) ::Reaches out and puts his hand over mine. Except not a pat-- a hand-grab pat.
And I was hosting at about 7:30 yesterday, when the aforementioned pervy Manager came over and informed me that his parents would be coming to Titletown to eat that night, so I should seat them in a booth in the Ticket Office. So, they came, I seated them, pleasantries were exchanged, we downed a few bottles of wine, and smoked a few cuban cigars (I'm obviously joking), and about an hour later, they left, and his father waved goodbye to me. A little while after that, Matt came downstairs and stood next to me, and I said, "Your dad's a nice guy." And he said, "Why, did he say you'd make a great daughter-in-law?"
I was like, "Um...no. ..No, he didn't." ((WHAT THE HECK?!))
And then he's like, "Did he say, 'Who's that fiery redhead by the door?'"
I didn't even know what to say. Except, "...Er........uh.....er............ No."
I couldn't believe it. He is my MANAGER. He is 28 years old. He is my MANAGER.
AND THEN later that night, he was talking to a server about a girl they obviously both knew, and again, he was standing right next to me, and he said, "I heard she got hot." The other guy was like, "Yeah, I guess she lost some weight." And my manager's like, "I heard she gives good blowjobs."
And as soon as he said it, he burst out laughing and slapped me on the back.
It was disgusting.
I liked him a lot before I knew he was so creepy. I really did.
And, the thing is-- he's not some eighty year old, one-legged ogre. He's just a regular guy.
Oh man. That's so horribly disconcerting.
Oh man.
I feel like a.... prostitute. UGH.
UGH