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Father Entitlement (creepy)
This is my personal War story. It isn't funny, but it is creepy. Fortunately, nothing bad came out of this, I just got a good scare.
This was when I first started working at the Frame Shop, probably around October. I had just figured out what I was doing, and was finally taking custom orders by myself on the computer. I relied on my personality to ease through the transaction, because there was still some stuff I didn't know. Well, my personality failed me when I got a visit from Father Entitlement. He didn't start off bad... but he got progressively worse and worse with each and every visit.
October 2007:
I am standing at the counter and a Priest in full dress came into the shop. He speaks with a thick accent, and also very slowly. I end up upselling him (he came in with intentions of getting 2 things framed, while I complimented his photographs, so he went with 3). Things were fine. I treated him like I did most other customers (I'm very playful, saying things like, "Oh my gosh, we rock! High five!") and he made his first wrong move: he blessed me. Hand on the forehead, speaking in Polish, as the customers behind him are making WTF faces. Like I said, I am playful, so I took it jokingly, and just laughed it off. I let him know his frames would be ready in 2 weeks, and he blessed me again, and left.
Next week:
He started coming in everyday of the next week, asking for his pictures. When I would point out that his due date wasn't for another week, he would just smile, claim that he knew, and ask if he could talk to me. This is when the proselytizing began. "Do you know Jesus?" "Yes." "Would you like to get baptized?" "No, not really." Uncomfortable questions to be dealing with at work, you know? He'd ask me over and over again why I did not want to follow the Catholic faith, and not once was I able to tell him the real reason: I am a lesbian, and I want to be able to marry. (And I shouldn't have to tell him that -- because it shouldn't have come up...)
Although I only worked about 4 days that week, he still came in every single day, asking for me. If I wasn't there, he left me notes for when I would get back. Sometimes they were Bible Verses and other times they were random Hi's. He always signed them, "Love, Father Entitlement."
Finally, his two week due period had arrived, and everything had been finished up. My boss was standing behind me, and he had noticed that this man always seemed to come up and wasn't satisfied unless he was talking to me. It got to the point that we ended up having a company meeting about him, because he wouldn't leave me alone. Because it was an odd situation (my boss is Catholic, and I didn't feel comfortable telling off a Priest) we had random things we would do if he came in the store. The most popular one was paging me to the office, where I would sit for HOURS until he left.
Well, as I was saying, his due period came and he was there right on time to pick them up. I handed him his three pictures and began to walk away, but he motioned for me to come back. I reluctantly walked over, and he handed me a picture -- that he paid $300 to have framed. I didn't even know what to say -- I was in shock. "I--I can't take this," I managed to mumble. Finally, my boss looked over, grabbed it out of my hands and said, "No, she can't have this. It is company policy that she can't accept gratuities. I'm sorry." Boss to the rescue, he was defeated. My boss didn't leave my side until he was gone.
November 2007:
Father Entitlement hasn't shown up for a couple weeks now. I feel a bit safer as I am out on the floor, putting stock away. Then, I hear my name being said in that Polish accent. Oh, I think. Fuck. I turn around and there he is with cards in his hand. He made duplicate copies of the photographs I had framed, for me. I'm not sure how the whole conversation went down, but it ended like this:
"You are a very pretty, young girl, you know that?"
"Oh. Thank you."
"If I was a lot younger, I would be all over you."
"...ah-ha-ha..."
I was SO grossed out. For one, I am DEFINITELY gay, and although I usually give men the benefit of the doubt, he was just too much. This man was at least seventy years old, which would make him nearly fifty years older than myself. I found a reason to leave, and made my exit. I didn't tell him goodbye.
Apparently, that day, he got something else framed so he would have a reason to come back. I groan.
Next week:
Like I said before: 2 week waiting period. When does he show up? 4 times a week. I had been told by two other people that he stopped in three times when I wasn't there and they didn't bother with him. Finally, he came in another time on my shift. He asked me when his next piece was due, and I told him the date. Then, he started getting angry with me, and spoke with intimidation:
"I was told it would be done by Friday. This isn't right."
"I am just reading you what your order says."
"You will get it to me by Friday. Thursday night at the latest, that is when I need it."
"Um. Ok." (why can't I just tell him no?)
Having it for him on Thursday was totally out of the question for anyone else, but we wanted him gone. For Thursday, it would have given us a total of 4 days for all of his stuff to be delivered and then we'd have to do it right away. We managed to get it done, just so we wouldn't have to deal with him.
The week after:
I am receiving more and more mail from Father Entitlement. Yes, now he is SENDING me mail to my work address -- and I don't even know how he is going about doing this! I work at a retail store! Basically, he wrote my first name on the envelope, and wrote the store's address underneath it. Any mail I was receiving from him had to be opened in front of a manager and they had to read it right after I did because of what was going on. My associates were beginning to get freaked out, too. Anytime I was in the shop and he would stop by, he would ask for me and they would tell him I was not there. Somehow, he was getting my schedule, because he would say, "I know she is working today. She told me." I never told him anything. If someone saw him before I did, they would grab me, and push me under a counter. I was beginning to know the drill. They were trying to get him to think I no longer worked there so that he would stop showing up.
December 2007:
I am outside on my break, smoking a cigarette, near the front entrance. I watch a car park. Out steps a black shoe and a long robe. Oh, Hell no. I'm not quite sure what happened, but at this moment, it was the most threatened I had felt in a long time. He hadn't said anything to me, and I don't even know if he saw me, because I bolted. I guess it was being outside of my work environment where there was no one there to protect me, or call me to the office to get me away from him. I know if I would have just stayed there and acted like I didn't see him, it would have been bad.
I took off behind the store and called the assistant manager from my cellphone. I told her what was going on, gave her my number, and told her to call me when he left, because I could not be alone with him, absolutely not. She agreed to call me when he left, and understood why I took off, so it was OK.
Apparently he came in to return all of the random things he bought when I would show him where they were. He had a large bag full of random things from the last 2 months and just poured them out onto the customer service desk. Knowing the situation, they took everything back, figuring he would just be in to argue with them about it later.
We considered this his realization of defeat. After that day, he never showed up at my work again. I know that stereotypes are often wrong, and cruel to make, but this was one where I could safely say this Priest wanted a piece of my androgynous ass.
My boss ended up going to his Church one night and talking to some of the other people there. He told them everything that had went on with me, and that it needed to stop or we were going to make it stop.
From that experience, I learned several things:
1) Always carry pepper spray.
2) Always have your cell phone.
3) Never be afraid to say NO if you feel threatened.
4) If you can't make a confrontation, the police can.
5) Priest, doctor, teacher -- it doesn't matter what their job is. They still might be a creep.
Sorry if any of this was confusing. I like to forget it for the most part, and my time was limited, but to put things into perspective, I live in a semi-rural area (I call it a sub-urb of a sub-urb) so it isn't just in the cities where scary things happen. It happens in the country, too. Always carry pepper spray if you're going outside alone. Always charge your cell phone!
***UPDATE*** 02-24-2008 6:36 PM
I just received a call from my new framing manager. Luckily, when she first came on staff, I told her about what went on with Father Entitlement and kind of described him to her. Well, I have only been getting about 15 hours a week, so I haven't been there too often, however she was there tonight.
Apparently, he came in, in regular dress, and asked her for me. Probably figured -- someone new -- she won't know. He asked if I still worked there, and she said "Yes." Then, she realized who he might be, and added, "--but she won't be in until Thursday. That's the only day she works this week." Thankfully, I only work on Friday and Saturday.
I am getting the feeling this story hasn't quite ended. Also, I need advice -- is this enough grounds for me to call the police? I am afraid that I waited too long. That humiliated feeling is taking over again.
This was when I first started working at the Frame Shop, probably around October. I had just figured out what I was doing, and was finally taking custom orders by myself on the computer. I relied on my personality to ease through the transaction, because there was still some stuff I didn't know. Well, my personality failed me when I got a visit from Father Entitlement. He didn't start off bad... but he got progressively worse and worse with each and every visit.
October 2007:
I am standing at the counter and a Priest in full dress came into the shop. He speaks with a thick accent, and also very slowly. I end up upselling him (he came in with intentions of getting 2 things framed, while I complimented his photographs, so he went with 3). Things were fine. I treated him like I did most other customers (I'm very playful, saying things like, "Oh my gosh, we rock! High five!") and he made his first wrong move: he blessed me. Hand on the forehead, speaking in Polish, as the customers behind him are making WTF faces. Like I said, I am playful, so I took it jokingly, and just laughed it off. I let him know his frames would be ready in 2 weeks, and he blessed me again, and left.
Next week:
He started coming in everyday of the next week, asking for his pictures. When I would point out that his due date wasn't for another week, he would just smile, claim that he knew, and ask if he could talk to me. This is when the proselytizing began. "Do you know Jesus?" "Yes." "Would you like to get baptized?" "No, not really." Uncomfortable questions to be dealing with at work, you know? He'd ask me over and over again why I did not want to follow the Catholic faith, and not once was I able to tell him the real reason: I am a lesbian, and I want to be able to marry. (And I shouldn't have to tell him that -- because it shouldn't have come up...)
Although I only worked about 4 days that week, he still came in every single day, asking for me. If I wasn't there, he left me notes for when I would get back. Sometimes they were Bible Verses and other times they were random Hi's. He always signed them, "Love, Father Entitlement."
Finally, his two week due period had arrived, and everything had been finished up. My boss was standing behind me, and he had noticed that this man always seemed to come up and wasn't satisfied unless he was talking to me. It got to the point that we ended up having a company meeting about him, because he wouldn't leave me alone. Because it was an odd situation (my boss is Catholic, and I didn't feel comfortable telling off a Priest) we had random things we would do if he came in the store. The most popular one was paging me to the office, where I would sit for HOURS until he left.
Well, as I was saying, his due period came and he was there right on time to pick them up. I handed him his three pictures and began to walk away, but he motioned for me to come back. I reluctantly walked over, and he handed me a picture -- that he paid $300 to have framed. I didn't even know what to say -- I was in shock. "I--I can't take this," I managed to mumble. Finally, my boss looked over, grabbed it out of my hands and said, "No, she can't have this. It is company policy that she can't accept gratuities. I'm sorry." Boss to the rescue, he was defeated. My boss didn't leave my side until he was gone.
November 2007:
Father Entitlement hasn't shown up for a couple weeks now. I feel a bit safer as I am out on the floor, putting stock away. Then, I hear my name being said in that Polish accent. Oh, I think. Fuck. I turn around and there he is with cards in his hand. He made duplicate copies of the photographs I had framed, for me. I'm not sure how the whole conversation went down, but it ended like this:
"You are a very pretty, young girl, you know that?"
"Oh. Thank you."
"If I was a lot younger, I would be all over you."
"...ah-ha-ha..."
I was SO grossed out. For one, I am DEFINITELY gay, and although I usually give men the benefit of the doubt, he was just too much. This man was at least seventy years old, which would make him nearly fifty years older than myself. I found a reason to leave, and made my exit. I didn't tell him goodbye.
Apparently, that day, he got something else framed so he would have a reason to come back. I groan.
Next week:
Like I said before: 2 week waiting period. When does he show up? 4 times a week. I had been told by two other people that he stopped in three times when I wasn't there and they didn't bother with him. Finally, he came in another time on my shift. He asked me when his next piece was due, and I told him the date. Then, he started getting angry with me, and spoke with intimidation:
"I was told it would be done by Friday. This isn't right."
"I am just reading you what your order says."
"You will get it to me by Friday. Thursday night at the latest, that is when I need it."
"Um. Ok." (why can't I just tell him no?)
Having it for him on Thursday was totally out of the question for anyone else, but we wanted him gone. For Thursday, it would have given us a total of 4 days for all of his stuff to be delivered and then we'd have to do it right away. We managed to get it done, just so we wouldn't have to deal with him.
The week after:
I am receiving more and more mail from Father Entitlement. Yes, now he is SENDING me mail to my work address -- and I don't even know how he is going about doing this! I work at a retail store! Basically, he wrote my first name on the envelope, and wrote the store's address underneath it. Any mail I was receiving from him had to be opened in front of a manager and they had to read it right after I did because of what was going on. My associates were beginning to get freaked out, too. Anytime I was in the shop and he would stop by, he would ask for me and they would tell him I was not there. Somehow, he was getting my schedule, because he would say, "I know she is working today. She told me." I never told him anything. If someone saw him before I did, they would grab me, and push me under a counter. I was beginning to know the drill. They were trying to get him to think I no longer worked there so that he would stop showing up.
December 2007:
I am outside on my break, smoking a cigarette, near the front entrance. I watch a car park. Out steps a black shoe and a long robe. Oh, Hell no. I'm not quite sure what happened, but at this moment, it was the most threatened I had felt in a long time. He hadn't said anything to me, and I don't even know if he saw me, because I bolted. I guess it was being outside of my work environment where there was no one there to protect me, or call me to the office to get me away from him. I know if I would have just stayed there and acted like I didn't see him, it would have been bad.
I took off behind the store and called the assistant manager from my cellphone. I told her what was going on, gave her my number, and told her to call me when he left, because I could not be alone with him, absolutely not. She agreed to call me when he left, and understood why I took off, so it was OK.
Apparently he came in to return all of the random things he bought when I would show him where they were. He had a large bag full of random things from the last 2 months and just poured them out onto the customer service desk. Knowing the situation, they took everything back, figuring he would just be in to argue with them about it later.
We considered this his realization of defeat. After that day, he never showed up at my work again. I know that stereotypes are often wrong, and cruel to make, but this was one where I could safely say this Priest wanted a piece of my androgynous ass.
My boss ended up going to his Church one night and talking to some of the other people there. He told them everything that had went on with me, and that it needed to stop or we were going to make it stop.
From that experience, I learned several things:
1) Always carry pepper spray.
2) Always have your cell phone.
3) Never be afraid to say NO if you feel threatened.
4) If you can't make a confrontation, the police can.
5) Priest, doctor, teacher -- it doesn't matter what their job is. They still might be a creep.
Sorry if any of this was confusing. I like to forget it for the most part, and my time was limited, but to put things into perspective, I live in a semi-rural area (I call it a sub-urb of a sub-urb) so it isn't just in the cities where scary things happen. It happens in the country, too. Always carry pepper spray if you're going outside alone. Always charge your cell phone!
***UPDATE*** 02-24-2008 6:36 PM
I just received a call from my new framing manager. Luckily, when she first came on staff, I told her about what went on with Father Entitlement and kind of described him to her. Well, I have only been getting about 15 hours a week, so I haven't been there too often, however she was there tonight.
Apparently, he came in, in regular dress, and asked her for me. Probably figured -- someone new -- she won't know. He asked if I still worked there, and she said "Yes." Then, she realized who he might be, and added, "--but she won't be in until Thursday. That's the only day she works this week." Thankfully, I only work on Friday and Saturday.
I am getting the feeling this story hasn't quite ended. Also, I need advice -- is this enough grounds for me to call the police? I am afraid that I waited too long. That humiliated feeling is taking over again.
and 
*hug*
I mean, I know you know now that it wasn't, but what made you think so at the time?
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