On my way into a restaurant the other day, I interrupted a middle-aged man who was leaning in to talk to the young hostess. The situation made me so uncomfortable that I walked around him and stood where she could see me. She immediately slipped into business mode, and asked me questions about seating. As the man started to walk out, he said, “well, if I don’t see you, I hope you have a great rest of your life.”
After lunch, I asked the hostess if he had been hitting on her. “Oh, ick, I’m 17.” “Exactly,” I said. She looked a little troubled and then confided she no longer felt safe going into some stores and visiting certain areas of the Valley. She and I then had a conversation and did a little role-playing in the empty entrance about occupying her space when there were bullies around.
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