High noon at the burger joint a few stops down on the freeway. I waited in line while 2 women ordered, then stepped up to the cash register, next to a short, young, mostly bald guy in a spread collar, slightly shimmery dress shirt with diagonal stripes, possibly French cuffs. Almost snappy, you might say.
The woman working the counter pulled a couple of beers while Shiny Guy chatted her up, or tried to, by making the observation that it sure was busy in the place.
Burger joint with a full bar at noon on a Friday in Texas?
Penetrating and insightful, Shiny Guy.
Realizing rather quickly that she was going to keep right on working no matter what he said, he half-turned to face the line, working the audience a bit.
Boy, it sure is hard to be a guy. We men sure do have to work hard to make our money.
Wow, I thought, I’m not really sure where this is going to go. Is he about to offer to buy me lunch? Buy her lunch? Make some crack about how hard she’s making him work to spend it because she’s pulling beers instead of taking his order?
I really couldn’t resist saying something, because really, I pretty much get up each morning hoping some idiot will make some asinine, sexist comment in front of me.
I went with the very deliberate head turn, the bring the chin down hard, the furrow the brow, and the make eye contact to be sure he is listening kind of stare.
Oh yeah, I sure do feel sorry for just how hard you men have it. You do work hard. I’ve never had to work hard.
It wasn’t as witty as his observation on the relative business level of the eating establishment at noon, but whatever. I hadn’t had caffeine yet.
I mean, he went on to explain, to the line behind me, just stand behind a counter all day and make, like, $200 for having nice tits.
Did this guy actually say that in front of me and the woman behind the counter?
My head snapped around as I looked for the Candid Camera crew. If they were there, they were really well-hidden.
I considered my options. No one really responded to him, and counter woman took my order in a most professional way, so I opted to wait until I got my burger for my red meat fix of the day rather than give him any more attention.
She was going to have to stand there and deal with him, so I felt that I wasn’t really doing any favors for her if I took him on.
She, after all, was working. She couldn’t just walk away from this jerk who felt perfectly free to comment on her body and the amount of money he thought she could make by flaunting it.
I really wish that I’d thought to take his photo and publish it on one of the Holla Back sites. We don’t have a Holla Back Houston, so perhaps I’ll start one.
And, in honor of all of the women stuck working behind counters, desks, and phone headsets when men make obnoxious sexist comments, I’m going to make a contribution to Hollaback to help fund their iPhone app.
Then again, I kind of like this approach, too, and I had a full coke in my hand: