Not Lost In Translation: It's Sexual Harassment

I was standing in line to get food at a takeout place in Porter, and as I am trying to place my order, the words "May I please have a regular...." barely make it out of my mouth before I'm interrupted by the man who is supposed to be helping me. He starts saying, "Oh, I haven't seen you before, do you live nearby?" At first, I just laughed nervously and shrugged it off, said politely that I didn't speak a lot of Spanish (that isn't exactly true, and he could tell since I said it in Spanish, but I was hoping he'd take the hint: I speak the same language, I know what you're saying, so don't mess with me!). I continued to try to order. No luck, though, the man wouldn't quit. He keeps talking in this sleazy tone, saying things under his breath that I wish I hadn't understood, while he repeatedly looks me up and down. Then he says to me, "What's your name?" I'm frustrated, so I say back firmly and loudly, "I don't have a name." And the man says, "Oh! No name!? But you must have a name, muchachita (little girl)." I'm in my mid-twenties. I'm not a little girl. At this point, both the cashier and the previous customer (another man, standing right next to me), both look blankly at me and him, and yet say absolutely nothing. Then they look down at the floor when I try to give them a look that says: "I'm being harassed, here, and you both know it." I refused to answer anything else, and I tried to stop listening to what he was saying about me, and to think about something else instead. I just wanted to get my stupid food and get out of there as fast as possible. I will not be going back again. -Anne