This one takes the cake:
When I was 18, I had a job working in a Fotomat drive-thru booth. It was my second job, having worked at Kentucky Fried Chicken for two years, so it seemed like a definite step up – no grease. These booths were situated in shopping center parking lots, and people could drive up to either side and drop off their film for processing and printing, pick their photos up, and buy film. The company only hired girls to man these booths, and we were called "Fotomates." Seriously. Keep in mind, this was 1973 and the culture was decidedly less puritanical than it is today (not to imply that this particular position was enlightened or anything).
I cannot tell you how many obscene phone calls I got, often with the person describing me. Pre-cell phone, this meant that the perv saw me, then went home and called. I also had men pull up to the window and engage me in conversation about the different kinds of film we sold, all the while masturbating at me from their rolled-down window.
The first few times I didn't realize what was going on, and was confused by the tremors and sweat, but when I looked down into a particular sports car and actually SAW the penis in fist, I became quicker and more adept at cutting off the dodgier exchanges. I would slide the window closed and stare straight ahead. One time a man walked up to the booth and simply laid his member on the sliding window sill.
I learned that there are a lot of men out there who want to scare and intimidate girls with their penises. I learned that you need to pay attention to your immediate surroundings and look like you know what you're doing and where you're going. And what savvy entrepreneur thought it was a good idea to put a young woman alone in a booth in a parking lot at night?
Earlier stories in the thread here, here, here, here and here.
The Dish 