It’s difficult being a female bartender. Not only do we have to deal with the asshole that doesn’t respect women and the chauvinistic pig that constantly tries to hit on us but we also get that super creepy guy that makes you question your personal safety. You know the type, gentle-looking but can totally have a dark side. The other two guys are simple to handle. If you work at a bar with such leniency as mine, you can tell them to fuck off and laugh about it later. But with that creepy guy, you try your best not to piss him off or upset him because he may be a loose cannon waiting for a reason to lunge at your throat. Yes, this scenario played out in my mind last night when I had my first encounter with a guy that made me physically uncomfortable.
Larry* seemed like a normal guy. He came in to the bar and ordered a bud and a shot of fireball, simple enough. I tried the small talk but the guy was basically whispering so I gave up and continued to talk to other regulars that were speaking at a normal decimal. Larry was quiet, just sat at the bar a few seats away listening. A few minutes later, he inched closer to us and jumped in on our conversation with random words of faux understanding. He definitely creeped me out, but I was with people I knew so I overlooked it.
Of course those three people weren’t going to stay forever and left shortly after the guy came in. Cool. Now I tried to mask my discomfort. I intelligently sat a seat away from him to create a barrier but he immediately crossed it and plopped right next to me. Strike one. The guy played Pearl Jam which was blasting in the bar because the volume was so high but I didn’t want to offend him by lowering it and he was literally whispering all his responses to me so I had to lean over and bring my ear closer to his mouth. Strike two. I now realize that is a terrible idea in case he decided to catch me blindsided and stab me in the side. My error has been recognized and noted.
I texted my boss about this creepy guy and he started watching on the cameras. I felt a little safer. Until Larry mumbled that he didn’t want me to find him creepy which meant he leaned over into my personal bubble and read the text. Strike three. Plus, now he knows I think he’s creepy.
As our conversation continued, he began flirting. Breaking eye contact must have been a sin in whichever ladies’ man book he read because he was boring a whole through my pupils. He also was creepily touching me. Gross. The light pat on the forearm as one would do. But in this case it was not welcome and completely creepy. Strike four. He was trying to impress me with the fact that he has scientific publications in neurology journals and then asked me to impress him. How about no. At that point, two guys I knew walked in and saved me from this awful conversation and this weird ass person.
Since October, I’ve never met someone to raise as many red flags as that guy. Thank god my intuition kicked in. Not to say the guy was a crazy person, but the potential was there. There’s a reason no one trusts the quiet ones. I don’t. I’d prefer a guy that was all talk than the quiet guy because at least you know what the loud guy is thinking. The quiet ones are a closed book. They could be thinking about food, their day or picturing what your skin would look like on a lamp (AHS allusion). That is an extremely unlikely scenario, but hey, it happened on TV – someone had to think of it. And that someone is out there roaming the streets thinking of his next idea.
Well, it’s time to go back to the bar. Banking on no creeps tonight. And if that guys back, expect another post about him. Because he’s a creep.
Any creep encounters? Let’s discuss them. Comment below or tweet me @tobyjaye19 #creepstories