Need
that cocktail look
Safiya
Elkhaldy
When
I went into work this weekend, I looked
at the new schedule. To my surprise, my
weekday cocktail shifts had been taken away
from me and given to Veronica, who was hired
in June. As a three-year employee, I was
offended that this switch had been made
with no mention to me.
I
quickly confronted my manager (lets call
him Dick for fun.). Dick explained to me
that he thought I was a great server but
he wanted to test Veronica's ability in
the cocktail lounge. Now I should add that
I cocktail on Tuesdays and Thursdays and
Dick could have easily "tested her
out," on Mondays and Wednesdays. However,
this would mean taking Melissa's shifts
away. And he can't take Melissa's shifts,
because that would mean no more back office
rendezvous for Dick.
Politics
aside, Dick proceeded to tell me he wanted
a new "cocktail look" for the
bar. From this point on the conversation
played like a silent film for me. I could
see his mouth moving like a puppet and his
small thin arms trying to gesture his lies.
Everything he said from that point was irrelevant.
All I heard was he wanted a cocktail look,
which I didn't have.
I
added volume back in the scene and finally
asked, "What is a cocktail look?"
Dick's mouth and arms stopped moving like
his puppeteer had let go of his strings
and said, "I'm
not going to compare you or your performance
to anyone else."
That
would be impossible since I had never slept
with him. Oh, I must have been mistaken.
I thought we were talking about my performance
in the bedroom, since that appeared to be
the basis of who would cocktail and who
wouldn't.
What
an eye-opener this experience was. I'm naïve,
I thought sexual discrimination and harassment
couldn't happen to me. After Dick verbally
screwed up, he tried to cover his tracks
by discrediting me as a server. But with
a flawless track record, his lies meant
nothing to me. I had been wronged. I was
being stripped of my shifts because I didn't
have a "cocktail look," and because
I never flirted or acted coy with Dick like
Veronica did. I sure as hell was not going
to let his thin, boy body touch mine, Melissa
had an edge on me.
The
big picture is Dick tried to flex his little
assistant manager muscles and play God with
my source of income and my life. Dick thought
that like most of the female employees at
my work, I would say, "OK, I understand
that I don't look like a cocktail waitress,
thanks for giving me the opportunity to
work hard and train other girls."
In
Dick's dreams this would have been the scenario.
It's important that women recognize when
they are being discriminated against. The
last time I checked I was working for a
casual dining restaurant and not Elite model
agency. It's scary how some men with little
power in their life get off like Dick when
they think they can pull a power trip.
Since
a cocktail look wasn't in my manual, I called
our corporate office to define exactly what
a cocktail look meant!
Safiya
Elkhaldy is a journalism major at Cal State
Long Beach.
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