One of my first jobs out of high school was at a jewelry kiosk at the mall.
Every weekend I walked down the corridor with my clear purse slung over my shoulder ready to assist customers in their jewelry needs.
I will never forget the face of the man that would frequently stop by on his break to visit my manager.
He would excitedly share about his escapades at clubs and often tried to include me in the conversation.
“What is your deal?” he asked one Sunday afternoon, “Are you afraid to hang out with someone like me?”
He stood, palms pressed against the glass ,shooting daggers-as if daring me to look away or squirm in disgust.
