That’s the only time guys ever remotely hit on me. Because they’re fucking drunk as shit and can’t see straight. They don’t even know what they’re doing, much less saying, and my glasses cover half my face anyway. They don’t know what they’re looking at. Just a face full of glass and some lips. God, I can’t mention anything else between my hat and my apron I might as well have the sex change operation right now. Besides that pesky right boob of my mine that refuses to stay in its’ apron, giving everyone a lopsided show. A show of pure grey boob shirt. Anyway, besides from the occasion makeup left on from the night before or me actually shaving my beard, I’m pretty sure no one knows I’m a girl and I’m just a weird looking guy in need of a breast reduction and got kneed in the balls too many times.
But every once in a while, someone braves through their drunken stupor and tries to hit on me. Why can’t they ever be drunk and hot? Oh yeah, because when you kiss these princes awake in the morning, they just wish they’ve never woken up.
There’s only one person that can see the shining light through this grimy, misery stained window, and that is one of my managers who is from Puerto Rico and well into her 60s. Her thoughts: You know Andrea, I think you need to work night shift 5 days a week, then you can finally get a boyfriend. *cackle cackle cackle* She’s right though. You have to be totally shit faced or a functioning alcoholic to ever wanna date me. I so wish I was on Tough Love right now.
So it’s around 4 am or so and this guy comes in and he’s short like 10, 20 cents or something. I just take the money and tell him it’s fine because at that point I don’t give a fuck and really don’t wanna have to deal with any drunken antics. It’s 4am, my feet burn, I’m tired, and I just wanna be in my nice lovable bed. So he goes on saying that I’m so nice and blah blah blah. And I’m just like, it’s fine. Nbd, right? Mind you, this guy is white, could be my uncle, very scruffy looking, like he roles in the dirt of the construction sites, Idk.
Creeper #1- Sooo, do you use Botox?
Me- Excuse me? (Are you fucking kidding me? So now I’m just fat with a rigidly tight face? wtf man!)
Creeper #1- You know, Botox.
Me- Uhhh no, I mean what do you think I use it for?
Creeper #1- Your lips, are those your lips?
Creeper #1- Oh man, you got some great lips, they’re amazing. Wow, I can’t believe those are really your lips.
We’re still going about the transaction of him paying and I’m just smiling at him and saying thank you, and giggling. I never really know how to take compliments from people besides blushing and smiling shyly or grinning like an idiot giggling and saying thanks until they shut up. I’m just like dear Jesus, make it stop.
Creeper #1- Wow, if I paid a compliment to ever pretty girl, maybe they’d all let me not pay 20 cents.
And I just keep smiling and I’m like ok go away now. Hurry make his food and send his functioning alchie ass packing. As he keeps remarking over my amazing lips I’m just like great, he either wants to eat them or have them wrapped around the bottom of his shaft, and I’m thinking he’s thinking the latter option. If I ever really was a guy, I could never go to prison, I totally have blow job lips and be traded to Big Mike for 2 packs of cigarettes.
Anyway he gets his food and I’m standing as far in the corner as I can, so he can forget me and leave. Yeah right.
Creeper #1- You got a boyfriend?
Me- Uh, no. (What? I’m an honest person.)
Creeper #1- What, you really don’t have a boyfriend?
Creeper #1- Can I get your number?
Me- Uhhh…. *looks around awkwardly*
Creeper #1- Oh, not at work right?
Me- Yeah, nooo, not at work. Yeah totally not allowed.
Creeper #1- Yeah, that’s ok, I’m on the job too, I’m going to work right now.
He tugs on the measuring tape that’s on his belt loop to emphasize his point. I have no clue what this guy could be doing at 4 am with measuring tape, a bag full of questionable paraphernalia, and seemed to be a functional as they come. I just smile. And I just retreat further into my little corner.
Creeper #1- I just wanted to see your reaction.
Me- Oh ok.
Finally he left, and it was all I could do.
Co-worker- Yo, why didn’t you bag that?
Me- Eww, yeah right.
Co-worker- But he liked you, son. You should’ve bagged.
Me- Not to drunk grandpa. I’m really good.
Co-worker- So why you smile? You shouldn’t smile if you don’t like them, then they think you like them.
Me- I smile just in case they turn out to be serial killers and then they won’t stab me to death.
Co- worker- Nah, they’d be like, shorty played me, now she gotta die.
Me- Nope, they’ll kill the bitch that didn’t smile. Then when they come to me, they’d be like remember when she smiled at me and it was a great time? Then they’d only wound me or hold me hostage or something.
My co-worker just shakes his head and laughs.
Later that night, or well morning, when it’s time to leave, around 5 am, we head to the bus stop together and get on the bus heading toward the ferry. I take the first single seat and he sprawls on the last two seater. He’s conked out within a few stops and I just have my hood on my head. Then after a few more stops, he gets on the bus. My blood stops cold and my eyes go big. Oh God, time to test my murderer theory. I look back at my co-worker to thankfully find he’s awake and his eyes just as wide as mine are. We keep stealing stunned glances and I try to keep my hooded head glued to the window.
Creeper #1- Hey, you’re that girl that sold me those burgers.
Me- Oh yes, hi.
I do a nod a half a wave and a quick grin.
Creeper #1- Yeah yeah, bringing some home I see.
I have a see through bag on my lap that I use for work. He was all up in my bag, like damn. Who looks that hard at other people’s stuff?
Me- Uh no, I’m not.
Creeper#1- So what’s that you got in there? Oh what’s that? Oh, Subways, you bringing home some Subways to eat?
Me- Umm, no it’s just a bag left in there….
Creeper #1- Oh you just got some left overs, taking it home.
At this point, I give just give and want him to stop talking to me.
Me- Yes, yeah, left overs.
My smile has worn thin, stretching my amazing lips to the max. A lady who sitting in one of the side seats in front of me, facing opposite him, gets up to sit in the single seats behind me.
Creeper #1- What, did I scare you?
Creeper #1- Did I scare you? I’m just joking, I’m joking.
Lady- You didn’t scare me.
Creeper #1- I was just joking.
I glance back at him co-worker and we share more wtf? looks until he’s completely out. That was waaaaay too fucking intense for me. Creeepeerrr. But I try to be nice to them because one day, they might not stay so functional and try to get me. He was on the bus the whole way and got off the stop before mine. My only saving grace is that he got off before me. But then I had to spend the entire bus ride not looking in his general direction and yawning a lot to make me look extremely tired.
One good thing is that I didn’t have to test out my murderer theory. Little shining light through a very big, grimy, misery stained window.