Member-only story
Shocking Tales of Strangers Having Sex in My Workplace
The dirty realities of the restaurant industry
In pre-pandemic times, I saddled up to a trendy, downtown bar top.
The darkened speakeasy bustled with life. Young professionals and old retirees shouted “Slainte” as martini glasses and coupes clinked.
I was meeting a friend, and mimicked weird dance moves in my seat. I hate walking into these places alone and hate taking part in “the scene” (my twenty-something self would feel shocked to hear this). I never feel cool and pretty — always awkward. When smarmy guys squeeze in to hit on me, I make sure they know I’m meeting a friend.
The guy next to me seemed amiable and cool, though. He scooted his chair over and handed me his jacket to place on the empty seat to my right. He smiled and went back to his drink.
A harried bartender stopped to place a coaster in front of me. She half-smiled and said she’d be right back.
“If you’re in the weeds, take your time,” I replied. She thanked me and scurried off.
My drinking neighbor raised an eyebrow.
“How long were you in?” He asked.
I laughed, knowing exactly what he meant. I told him I’d spent over a decade off and on as a…
