ick.

waitressing/bartending is coming to me fairly easily so far. now working three jobs, i am a little more tired than i usually am, but i am happy. serving is fairly simple: if i smile, ask questions, am kind, quick and energetic, both the patron and i leave satisfied. lovely! obviously this doesn't work for absolutely everyone: some people are just sad. some people might be having terrible days. some patrons might not know their own assholery...and some patrons do, and abuse it, because they're just plain, old shitty people.

last night i had my first notable encounter with the impossibly-rotten...granted, i had a great night otherwise: j.y. came by for a laugh at my serving self, i met so many hilarious sailors (the tallships are here in halifax) and it was retro night (!!!), which meant i got to sing along with some of my guiltiest pleasures (please cue aha's "take on me"). despite the night-long laugh, all of the retro-boogie dance parties and surprise visits in the world could not have suppressed my anger with one particular incident.

a group of young guys came in (as they usually do) and nothing really stood out about them other than they all wore buzz-cuts and polo t-shirts. they were all fairly easy to deal with in the beginning and though their tips were lackluster i kept returning to their table to check on them. around the end of their time at the bar, one of them requested i come with the drink. my head then thought, "ha haaaaaaaaaa sooooo creative, so debonaire! he must have sat thinking THAT ONE up all night! oh, barf. i love that i can be reduced to a drink accompaniment: pay for the drink, get a jb for free! no, no, no thanks. pull down your collar." my mouth then said, "haha! no, i'm sorry i do not come with your drink. enjoy." and i walked away to serve someone else.

i wasn't bothered by the comment; i'd heard it before. i was bothered by the large group of male friends around said popped-collar patron just staring down at me from their seats to witness my reaction. i felt momentarily vulnerable and it was uncomfortable. i was thankful to see the group move from their table to the dance floor.

a couple of favorite customers of mine from last night were seated along the edge of the dance floor. these guys were great! they were incredibly nice and easy to please. they offered me no lame pick-up lines and shook my hand at the end of the night. cute. anyway, i made my way to the edge of the dance floor to serve the favorite folks. i successfully convinced them to order another round and just as i was about to turn away to make their drinks i felt an enormously painful pull on my buttocks. it felt like someone grabbed onto the whole thing and just PULLED for a second. it hurt, i was offended and i was superMEGAPISSED. i immediately swung around to see what creep belonged to the disgusting hands that grabbed me and when i saw creepy buzz-cut pop-collar man, i chased after him. i wasn't quick enough; the crowd was thick and i had a tray of empties in one hand. i searched for a bouncer, kept my eye on the dirtbag, and said, "ah, hi. that guy just grabbed my ass. i'm not alright with that." i saw him run over to sludgebucket and i walked away from there, i only assumed everything would be taken care of (meaning: turdburger would be asked to leave).

the rest of the night went well. things got busier, calmed down, no problems. i was still feeling pretty gross having had a big part of me picked up, pulled away and put back again. just because it sticks out does not mean it's for touching. a body is like a powerline in that only those trained and confirmed perfect for the job should be let anywhere near powerlines. without the right credentials and training, those touching the powerlines could severely burn themselves, electricute themselves or damage the line itself, potentially cutting power from those needing it. unless a person has been confirmed as an appropriate sexual partner, touching and grabbing is a no. inappropriate, unwarranted touching oppresses, victimizes and hurts. it is scary and it makes the victim feel completely objectified. if some sort-of jackass can't seem to care for the aforementioned reasons why inappropriate touching sucks, he or she can scrape the bottom of the barrel and just worry about him or herself: gasp! you mean i might get kicked out?!

anyway, things slowed down. the music was getting slower and last call was wrapping up. i was cleaning tables when the bouncer i had approached earlier came over to me. he explained that although the young man had indeed been asked to leave he was also "just a twerpy kid". i was confused: just a twerpy kid? he was old enough to enter, yeah? we're taught in elementary school the "body" song ("my body's nobody's body but mine"). the bouncer explained, "well, he was drunk and he's pretty young. i don't know if he knew any better. you girls can come to us if anyone ever gets aggressive with you or offends you." i was shocked. i WAS offended. is there a level of sleaze of which a patron must adhere to before i search for external help? this seemed ridiculous. i explained to him that i was INCREDIBLY offended and had the guy not escaped my grip i would have asked him to leave myself. the whole reason why the bouncers are there are to help, and no doubt they do, but the main reason why i scrambled to find this particular bouncer was because i trusted he could help me. help me, he did, ass-man was kicked out (and, from what the door-girls tell me, the bouncer was not too polite about it), but i'm not sure what he was getting at by telling me what i already knew and already felt. maybe he doesn't gauge a pinch on the bum reason enough to kick out a "poor twerp"...so what is reason enough?

i've been taught not to put up with crap. have patience, sure, but not for crap (for the record: crap, in this case, means anything unpleasant, unfavorable, uncomfortable, useless and smelly). the waitresses training me do not put up with crap. they encourage waitresses to see a bouncer about any out-of-control, uncomfortable situation of concern. the bouncers, all of them, seem sweet and true-blue to what the waitresses say: they ARE here to help...but i feel that we shouldn't even have to deal with situations that require their assistance and that when we do, we shouldn't need excuses for the offensive behaviour of others. while certain forms of assault are certainly of a greater concern than others, there should be no mental table-of-contents and grading-scheme for each individual physical boundary pushed. ultimately, i think the bouncer and i saw eye-to-eye by the end of our conversation (even despite m.j.'s "beat it" pounding in the background) and we understood one another a little better after weighing both sides.

he was trying to explain to me that by offering a defense for the snotchomper, he was attempting to make me feel better or less scared that ass-grabbery would happen again. i suppose that's fair. "he's just a twerp, he's drunk, you're better than him." i wasn't afraid that it was going to happen because my anger level was so high that i am sure had anyone else tried anything fresh there'd be teeth to sweep. i was afraid that everyone was under the impression that it's not such a huge deal to be grabbed. he felt obviously sorry that i'd been under that impression and we cleared it up and both got back to work...but something still feels icky.