He’s tall, in his late 40s, and he looks stoned, even at 8am. He mostly stands behind the grill and tries to convince people to buy the hot meals, guilting them when they sneak away with a coffee and a muffin.
“Heyyyy. Why do you want a muffin when you could have Rocco’s spicy jerk chicken ratatouille?”
I think Rocco only knows how to make one thing: spicy jerk chicken. So this becomes the base for every single special.
“Heyyyy. Why do you want cereal when you could have Rocco’s spicy jerk kung-po chicken?”
He doesn’t come out from behind the grill that often. He mostly does, from what I can tell, when I come into the caf.
“Heyyyy, beautiful. Why do you want coffee when you could have Rocco’s spicy jerk thai noodles?”
“I just want coffee, Rocco.”
And then – the swagger. He’ll swagger over to me, slowly look over my entire body with his bloodshot eyes, and try to make dirty small talk.
“You’re looking very tanned, beautiful.”
“Ya, I just got back from Cuba.”
“Mmmm. I bet you look gooooood in the sun.”
“I’m going on a pleasure cruise in the spring. *winks* Rocco likes the sun, too.”
“That’s…great. Wow, sounds fun. Ok, well I’m going to get back to work.”
*Rocco slowly runs his eyes over the curve of my ass*
“Don’t stay away too long, beautiful.”
“Ya, ok Rocco.”
And then I dart away, hips as straight as possible, because I know he’s watching my ass as I leave.
So, this happens pretty much every day. It’s not exactly comfortable for me, knowing that every time I grab a coffee a giant Caribbean man is probably dreaming of rolling me in jerk chicken seasoning and eating me alive, starting with the ass.
Now, you should understand that, because I work in a professional, extremely male-dominated environment, I make an effort to look asexual. I wear a lot of loose dress pants, and sweaters, and if the sweaters are tight then I put a scarf over top so that my jugs aren’t too prominent. I’m very careful.
But last week we had a snow day. Almost everyone in the news room planned to stay home. I knew I’d be one of the only people there, so I said fuck it and wore jeans.
Well, guess who else came in that day.
I went into the caf to grab a coffee, and Rocco was standing with Louise at the cash register. The two of them were discussing a roll of quarters when I came over to pay.
Rocco stopped talking to Louise and slowly ran his eyes over my ass, which was much more prominent in jeans. He put one hand on the counter and the other on his forehead.
“You….you look real nice, beautiful. You look REAL. NICE. TODAY.”
He slapped the counter and shook his head.
His eyes were still on my ass as I handed my toonie to Louise. She snatched it out of my hand with her jabby little fingers, glared at me, then turned and glared at Rocco.
“This guy and his compliments, eh?!”
Her scratchy voice broke Rocco’s ass hypnosis. He went back to the grill.
I went back to my desk and tried to sip the coffee so it would last me the rest of the day.
Obviously I failed. I was eye-raped two more times before I left.