Thursday, March 4, 2010
Grabby Hands Gone Wrong
We are both acted upon, changed for good or ill, by other men; and we are agents who act upon others to affect them in different ways.pg. 29 Laing
I quit one of my jobs this week. It's been a long time coming and should have happened months ago, but seeing as I am a stubborn ass sometimes (sometimes?) I stayed for much longer than I should have. It's not that I didn't like my job or where I worked, no, that was not the issue. I loved it. As a bit of a beer nerd I would get excited to serve locally brewed beer to other beer nerds and teach people who didn't know much about it a thing or two so they could show off to their friends. For the most part I would go in, and despite the random off nights (full moons or sundays, a full moon on a sunday-service industry people know that this is when the crazies crawl out of the woodwork) I would have a great time, and make some money. Can't really argue with that.
That is, until I was put in a situation that would slowly crush me for the following 10 months. One of my managers seemed to think that it was okay to put his hands on me. This manager is the most socially awkward and generally creepy person I have ever met, and I have met some socially awkward and generally creepy people in my short amount of years. His voice is that of a rejected muppet, and his overweight body and forgettable face don't help. The first few times this happened I wasn't sure how to react, as I was in a new work environment (having just traded in my khakis). When someone puts their arm around me, pokes me in the side or armpit, or tries to tickle me my general reaction is not cute. I have slapped random men at bars for even attempting such things. I may be small but I am scrappy, and I cannot handle it when men think its okay to touch whoever they want whether or not they know them. Tangent aside, I was thrown off as to how to react. Do I react as I would normally if a person were to do this to me? Knowing that this man is in charge of my schedule and the shifts I get, therefore determining the amount of money I would be making each week I started to ignore it (more like tried desperately to ignore it). This is entirely unlike myself.
After trying to avoid this mans hands over the summer months I finally grew tired of it and sat down with the general manager and owner and told them what was going on. They've had issues with him in the past doing this, and as I learned from a few of the girls who have worked there for a few years there is apparently a list of female servers who have quite soley because of the way that they were treated by this man. A list. Pardon my French here, but that is beyond fucked up. Long story short they talked to him, telling him that this treatment has to stop, and it did. For a few weeks.
A few weeks ago I finally lost it. I had started a new job bartending at a locally owned Mexican restaurant and was treated with respect. None of the managers touched me, put their arm around me or poked me in the sides or armpit. Amazing! What a concept! A respectful work enviornment?! This helped me to realize that what I was putting up with at my other job was not at all normal, which I knew all along, but being in that enviornment for so long I kept trying to convince myself that in that situation that was what the norm was. This reignited my resolve to get the owner and general manager to really truly see what this manager was doing to me and my fellow female servers. I met with them again, and told them that nothing had changed since I had last addressed these issues six months ago. We decided that the four of us should sit down and talk it out.
I went into this conversation on Sunday afternoon with a feeling in my stomach that it was not going to be good. It might have had something to do with the amount of enchiladas I had eaten that afternoon, but either way, my stomach was right. Without any hesitation I looked this manager in the face and said that I could not work with someone that doesn't respect me, because I am the type of person who reciprocates the respect I'm given. You don't show me any, and well, you're not going to get any in return. I also told him how the way that he touches and treats female servers and bartenders is disgusting, degrading, and disrespectful. His only direct response to this was 'that's how he was raised'. Really? Your parents raised you to sexually harass females? Well why didn't you just say so sooner, that makes it all okay! He didn't once acknowledge that his behavior was inappropriate in any way. I then went home from the meeting that night aghast and was told my roommate about it, then called my mom and talked to her for a bit. After getting off the phone, and having vented to two different people I looked in the mirror and wondered why I was still dealing with this. How did I let it get to this point? How did I let that situation become what I thought was normal?
The way that I was acted upon went from something that I would never put up with, to something that I not only put up with, but I feel I ended up condoning in the long run by my staying at that job for the amount of time I did. I left on good terms with the owner and general manager, they are two people that I truly adore, though I cannot understand how they can still justify employing this man. As for him, I'm not sure what will happen. All I can say is that now that I know my ability to pay my bills doesn't rest on my behavior and how I react to his, I am finally free to react in the way I normally would if he were to ever try and lay a hand on me again. It is a peculiar thing, how one can shape their behavior depending upon the factors that dictate a situation. As far as putting up with being harassed in the workplace, my expirience will now dictate that I no longer give a shit that I am in a work place, and my behavior and how I react is going to be the same as any other situation. You touch me, I slap you. I'd say this is a change for good.
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