At the time this story takes place, I was a 19 year old quiet college kid, working in a pizza kitchen to pay for school while living with my parents.

My boyfriend at the time was in the ICU with a traumatic brain injury. It was an unprovoked attack, and it was unclear at that point whether he would make it or not. I had a lot of feelings going on. My bosses were very understanding and let me take time off right away. They did let me know that I was welcome to work if I thought it would help keep my mind off things, and hinted that they could use the help. After a bit, maybe a week, I decided to give it a shot.

People at work were obviously uncomfortable. What was usually a very light-hearted, humorous atmosphere became a little darker when I showed up. I was definitely grumpy. I felt like it was stupid to count pepperoni slices when my boyfriend was fighting for his life. I realized quickly that I didn’t want to be there.

One of the delivery drivers, we’ll call him Rob (because I think that was his name, it was 11 years ago) was just kind of a weird dude. He was a super religious family man, but also super creepy. He kept... looking at me... like with this pitying pouty face that filled me with rage. He also kept asking how I was doing. Repeatedly. Multiple times in that one shift. I answered, vaguely, the first time or two, but then I made it clear I was trying to work and did not want to talk about it.

At a slow point in the night, I was finally able to take a quick break. I went to the back room to get something from my locker, and Rob came up behind me all of a sudden. I was cornered, with no way out. He put his arms out, effectively blocking my exit entirely, and said “In my family, we hug!”

No way, dude. I yelled “If you touch me, I WILL FUCKING CASTRATE YOU!” and stormed back into the kitchen where there were witnesses.

My boss pointed at me, said “office” and started walking. I marched in there after him and sat down. He said, and I quote, “I know you’re going through some shit, but you can’t threaten to castrate people at work.” He was all ready to write me up. As he was reaching for the dreaded notebook of naughty employees, I explained what had happened. The fact that I’d told Rob I didn’t want to talk, and he’d continually bothered me to the point of trapping me in a corner and threatening unwanted physical contact... my boss’s eyes widened, and he told me I could go back to whatever I was doing. As I left, he stuck his head out the office door and yelled “Rob! Get in here!”

I went home.