After the networking event I am with a friend, ordering a vegetarian wrap with Swiss Cheese, mushrooms, and guacamole at a fast food restaurant on the university campus.
As I step to the cashier, the woman rolling the wraps begins dancing provocatively to the Jamaican dancehall music playing on the radio.
One of her coworkers (a mature Indian woman) is giving her an intense glare of exasperation as she gyrates her hips.
The dancing woman says she would like to see me smile.
Deliberately, with a deadpan face, I respond that I am smiling. The three of them behind the counter laugh.
Later, the friend who accompanied me says it seems that restaurant service women have “a thing” for me.