Anyway, didn't happen because I found out I had to work. Joie.
The shift itself wasn't too terribly bad... the one manager I terribly dislike was only around for half an hour, and the shift itself moved along at a decent pace. I bruised my knuckle badly, but it was my own fault (I think, I don't actually remember how I did it) and everything was otherwise okay. One of my jobs for the night was to wipe down the front doors because they are glass and people leave greasy hand prints all over them. Easy enough.
And yet while I was up front squatting down to wipe one of the other doors (little kid hands), this guy comes up behind me on his way out, reaches down underneath the tail of my shirt to snap my thong and then leer at me, saying "Definitely liking the uniform, honey."
I don't know if I'm disappointed in myself that I didn't turn around and deck him, or just relieved. I just stood there with super death glare that actually made him go all shifty-eyed, and when I said "Don't you dare touch me again or I'm going back inside and raising you hell." he scurried off like a mouse.
UGH UGH UGH.