A Long Expected Scandal — One Angry Waitress

I think many of us can feel a sort of cultural shift in the air right now. This odd sort of ripple effect that I can only assume the Weinstein scandal seems to have a hand in. Many of us are angry and by the looks of things we intend not to take it anymore.

Recently, in my own city a bar and popular venue for shows called the Needle Vinyl, was shut down indefinitely due to sexual misconduct. I’m told that complaints about a misbehaving employee were brought to those in charge and pretty much brushed off. It was only when performers started pulling out that that anybody paid attention. I’m impressed with those who said they wouldn’t play at a place that treated their employees like this, but I wonder why it had to go so far before anything was done.

And don’t get me wrong, I’m thrilled that things are changing. Hopefully there are great shifts in the way things go on behind closed doors in the service industry. But I also can’t help but think that we need to tread carefully right now. Because if we don’t we may all be branded crazed feminists and our stories discarded as nothing more than prattle.

An old acquaintance of mine, who is now a sort of feminist rights writer (and who used to work in the industry), commented that if every bar and restaurant where sexual misconduct went on were shut down, there would be none left. And its comments like this that are going to make this inquisition shut itself down from the inside.

I am no stranger to sexual misconduct at work. In my first waitressing job, I was barely eighteen and still had no notion of myself. And so, when my boss took to sliding a hand across my lower back as he passed, I shook it off as nothing. Finally, one evening he pushed up against my ass so hard with his hands that I lost my footing and went pelvis-first into the corner of the kitchen deep-freeze. I had a triangle shaped bruise just above my pubic bone for weeks.

Telling him off the next day (because that’s how long it took me to work up to things then), is still one of my most satisfying memories. Though at the time it was his surprise more than anything that astounded me. He was actually visibly shocked that someone like me might turn down any kind of physical contact from someone like him. I doubt that our encounter brought about long term changes in him. But I can hope.

There have been other occurrences, but the things that I watched happen to others were much worse. Unwanted cellphone photos of the boss’ genitals sent to them without warning. Bosses who had sex with so many of their employees that when they heard the word “no” it seemed incongruent to them.

But I think at this time, when change is actually happening, the worst thing we can do is clump everyone together. There have been establishments that made me feel safe, and fellow employees, supervisors and owners who have made it clear that it is not part of my job for me to feel abused and that I should not hesitate to speak up if I ever felt my safety compromised. I refuse to paint them with the same brush as these other monsters. Yes, they too were men, but that’s all they had in common with these scumbags. And I refuse to call them by a name that they do not deserve.