Story Sent in by Courtney:
Jon was a cute pizza delivery boy who I met at my job. Whenever our department ordered pizza for whatever event, we'd invariably order from the same place, and all the single (and frequently the non-single) women of the office would prepare themselves, excitedly, for Jon's arrival.
I guessed him to be just a little younger than I was, at the time, which was 25. He was tall, well-built, and had a beautiful smile. The routine was always the same. He'd come in with the pizzas and put them on my desk, as I had the front-most desk in the office. We'd trade small talk, I'd give him a tip out of our petty cash, he'd flash me (and anyone else who "happened" to be there) a smile, then he'd say, "See you soon," and leave.
I resolved to engage him in more meaningful conversation the next time that pizzas were ordered, and I didn't have long to wait (we ordered pizzas at least twice a month). The next time he delivered to us, I invited him to sit down and talk, if he had a few minutes. He did, we talked, and wouldn't you know it, he asked for my number.
We had a couple of good phone conversations, and he asked me out on a date.
He took me to the pizza parlor where he worked. That was a little strange, not because I had anything against pizza, but because he knew every guy there, customer and employee alike. About half a dozen guys were there, and they were out for blood.
"Hey, who's your friend?"
"Does she do sloppy seconds? Ha ha!"
It was embarrassing and disrespectful. Worst of all, far from asking his friends to stop, or suggesting that we go elsewhere, he just smiled and laughed along with them.
They wouldn't let up, and I took it into my own hands and said, "Can we go somewhere else?"
He said, "My pizza place isn't good enough for you?"
I told him, "No, but your friends are harassing me."
He gave a huge eye-roll and said, "They're just kidding. Can't you take a joke?"
"There's joking around, and then there's the lewd hand gestures your friends are making."
That made him mad. "Now you want to tell my friends what they can and can't do? Jesus!"
It was an increasingly uncomfortable situation, and I left. I didn't deserve any of that.
The next chance I had, at work, I told my boss about what had happened, and he was understanding enough to never order from that place again. We found a different pizza place, and everything worked out fine.