Hustle and Gig

by Alexandrea J Ravenelle

  So this guy wanted to take a selfie with me. He was helping me cook. Then he tried to invite me his rooftop to have dinner with him because his girlfriend didn’t show up, and I was like, “No, I’m going to leave.” This is too much. [Laughing.] This is too much. [Laughing.]

  I was like, “No, I hope you enjoy your meal and everything.” He was like, “Yeah, it’s really good; you should like stay.” ’Cause he apparently just moved to that apartment, so he’s really ecstatic about it. But the same time, I was like, “I don’t really want to go have dinner with you on your rooftop.” [Laughing.]

  I just make excuses. I’m like, “Oh, unfortunately I have another booking, so, you know, maybe some other time, maybe I’ll see you around again.” I try to leave it civil and that stuff; I try to make sure the situation doesn’t end up coming off badly, just try to leave it like: “No, you know, thank you anyway, but I’m going to head out,” or something to that extent. I don’t just plainly say, “No, you weirded me out. Now, good-bye.”

  Just as workers have to be careful about how they convey pain or injury on the job, sharing economy workers also need to be cognizant of how they come across when a client is hitting on them or otherwise suggesting something that makes the worker uncomfortable. Roxanne is careful to be polite as she turns down what sounds suspiciously like an offer for a romantic rooftop dinner date.

  Kitchensurfing workers were not usually shown their client reviews, but the company solicited and reviewed feedback from clients. No one suggested that they would lose their sharing economy gig work if they declined an invitation, but such invitations often created uncomfortable situations for workers and sounded suspiciously close to sexual harassment.

  BACKGROUND ON SEXUAL HARASSMENT

  Under Title VII of the Civil Rights Act of 1964, sexual harassment is considered a form of sex discrimination. The US Equal Employment Opportunity Commission states that “unwelcome sexual advances, requests for sexual favors, and other verbal or physical conduct of a sexual nature constitute sexual harassment when this conduct explicitly or implicitly affects an individual’s employment, unreasonably interferes with an individual’s work performance, or creates an intimidating, hostile, or offensive work environment.”

  Sexual harassment is hardly a new concept. Sexual coercion or unwanted sexual relations imposed by superiors on their work subordinates was a regular component of slavery.2 Likewise women who worked in domestic service or in mills or shops often reported sexual advances from their male employers.3 In the late nineteenth century, the Women’s Christian Temperance Union attempted to reform the laws protecting women from sexual predation, but their efforts were primarily focused on a national campaign to raise the age of consent in statutory rape.4

  Even after the 1964 Civil Rights Act, the courts often refused to recognize sexual harassment, sometimes deciding that it was a personal matter, simply an assault that occurred at work, or even that it was “natural and inevitable and nothing that the law could reasonably expect to eradicate from work.” In regard to the claim that sexual harassment was discrimination on the basis of sex, the courts often argued that it could happen to men or women, and that even if women were the ones harmed, it was “not inflicted on all women, only those who refused their supervisor’s advances.” The court case Barnes vs. Costle (1977) included the comment by Judge Spottswood Robinson that a bisexual supervisor’s efforts to win sexual favors did not count as gender discrimination, since those efforts were not focused solely on one sex, and again, the discrimination was not on the basis of sex but on the refusal to perform sexual acts.5

  SHARING ECONOMY WORKERS AS MODERN-DAY TEMPS

  A number of writers and researchers have studied how sexualized conduct and sexual harassment are used to maintain workplace segregation. For instance, economist Barbara Bergman has detailed how sexual harassment of a woman focuses on insults and “mock propositions to engage in sexual relations” as a sign of contempt and “out of a hope that she will be made sufficiently uncomfortable to abandon the job.”6 Lin Farley, who coined the term sexual harassment in 1975, suggests that “the function of sexual harassment in nontraditional jobs is to keep women out: its function in the traditional female job sector is to keep women down.”7 Other models for understanding sexual harassment in the workplace suggest that inequities in structural or formal power within an organization may lead bosses to abuse their position by harassing workers.8 Yet research also shows that harassers may be more likely to be coworkers, and that harassers may at times be subordinates.9 In the sharing economy, which prides itself on the idea of peers hiring peers, hiring one’s peer can still lead to an asymmetrical power situation, which may further increase the incidence of sexually uncomfortable situations.

  Researchers have focused on how the “gendered processes of organizations” and “doing gender” are related to the organization of work and sexual harassment.10 For example, temporary workers must often be deferential owing to the feminized and powerless status of their job. As a result, this increases workers’ vulnerability and potential for experiencing sexual harassment by magnifying an asymmetrical power relationship. Temps are often on the jobsite for a full day, if not several weeks or months, and their transitory nature has often been seen as the explanation for their isolation or for employers’ failure to remember their names.11

  The temporary workers of the 1990s do not merely resemble today’s sharing economy workers—in many ways they are exactly alike. In parts of the West Coast, such as Seattle and San Francisco, companies even have specially marked doors for “runners,” as the temporary workers are often called. Wired described TaskRabbit as “particularly addictive for executives at the pathologically understaffed startups of San Francisco, where the phrase ‘we can get a runner to do that’ has become common parlance.”12 Although originally marketed only to consumers, for about a year, TaskRabbit expanded to include a business-to-business tier, TaskRabbit for Business, which targeted corporations in need of short-term workers for street-team marketing (workers who “hit the streets” to market a product or service) or supply delivery, as well as event staff. TechCrunch reports that the goal was to make it easier for companies to quickly staff short-term jobs, with a product that was “more reliable than online classifieds and less costly than traditional temp agencies.”13 At one point, TaskRabbit for Business had sixteen thousand businesses signed up and began handling compliance paperwork, including payroll taxes, workers’ compensation, and unemployment insurance for corporate workers who were hired as temporary employees (known as W2 workers).14

  In addition to the transient nature of their work, temporary clerical workers also shared several other strong similarities with sharing economy workers. Workers at one agency were told to think of themselves as guests rather than as laborers and “were reminded that a polite guest neither challenges nor otherwise risks offending his or her host.”15 Aside from helping enforce the emotional work of smiling and being cooperative, the guest role also “enforced passivity by rendering any complaining or self-assertion by temporary workers on assignment as inappropriate.”16 One can’t help but be reminded that workers experiencing an on-the-job injury or who simply need a break also must also be careful of how they present the request or their discomfort. Sharing economy workers have to contend with the risk of clients posting negative reviews and reducing these workers’ marketability; likewise, temporary workers who don’t show the correct level of deference can also find themselves out of work when clients complain to agency staff. The temporary component of the work may also free clients to behave badly—if they don’t expect to see the worker again, they may brush aside the social expectations of polite and professional behavior.

  ANYTHING GOES WHEN “IT’S ONLY TEMPORARY”

  Workers being on their best behavior by demonstrating deference and friendliness may be interpreted as responding to flirtatious behavior. In her research on waiters and waitresses at five types of restaurants, Elaine Hall found that w
hile males and females were expected to “job flirt,” there were higher expectations for women to exhibit sexual availability as part of their job, and customers seemed to feel encouraged to harass female staff in a sexualized manner.17

  The risk that friendliness can be construed in a sexual manner is well illustrated by Roxanne’s experience in cooking for a couple.

  ROXANNE:

  I had one [laughing]. I had this really cool couple, and again it was one of the couples that [acted as if] we were all hanging out. They were my last couple, so we were sitting around and talking, sharing stories, blah, blah. They asked about the meal. And I didn’t know they were swingers; the wife tried to hit on me and it was very weird. She was really hot, but I was like, “Okay, this is a really random turn; I’m usually going with things, but you guys are married, I’m not, it’s not my life.”

  INTERVIEWER:

  How does that come up?

  ROXANNE:

  [Laughing.] I guess the way we were talking. I guess they thought I was flirting with her. Because, I guess, sometimes it can seem like I’m flirting with people. I’m really not. I’m just really friendly. [Laughing.] I really don’t flirt with anybody. I’m just really just friendly, and I guess they thought that’s what was going on. Then they went to go talk, and then the wife comes back. She’s sitting next to me.

  ROXANNE:

  She’s like, “So how do you feel about, blah, blah, blah,” and I’m like, “I don’t care; it’s your life. Live it.” And then the questions starting getting a little more personal. I’m like, “Are you hitting on me—is this what’s happening right now?” I’m like, “Your husband’s right there, number one. That’s the number one thing; number two, no. I’m very flattered, but no, I’m sorry. I’m going to go now, thank you for the drinks. I’m glad you guys enjoyed the food.

  INTERVIEWER:

  I mean, how personal were these questions getting . . .

  ROXANNE:

  They were getting to like, “Are you into certain bedroom extracurricular type situations?”

  Being asked about one’s sexual proclivities while at work, or being invited to engage in a sex act with a client, would generally be verboten. But in the sharing economy, somehow anything goes. None of the sharing economy workers I interviewed described these experiences as sexual harassment. This isn’t unusual. As Rogers and Henson put it, “Particularly with verbal or hostile environment harassment, temporary workers were likely to ignore the harassment or fail to label it as sexual harassment at all.”18 Workers who ignored the sexual harassment or brushed it off as “nothing major” ignored the behavior because “it’s only temporary”—a response that is also prevalent among sharing economy workers. Sharing economy workers often peppered their descriptions of these sexually uncomfortable experiences with terms like “weird” and “bizarro-land” and laughter, suggesting that workers felt the situation was uncomfortable or felt “marked” in some way.19

  The language of the workers highlights one of the challenges of working in the gig economy. Owing to the focus on community, trust, and peer-to-peer work, workers face heightened expectations in terms of emotional work. Part of the appeal of the sharing economy is that individuals are hiring “real people” and there’s an expectation of “authentic” interaction. The other issue is the home-based nature of much of the work. Homes are places of intimacy, and there are different standards for behavior when someone enters a home. I am unlikely to spend much time interacting with a maintenance worker who changes the fluorescent bulbs in my office, but if that same worker comes into my home to change the filter on my air conditioner, I will probably offer him or her a glass of water and make a comment about the weather. The private-home aspect also changes the equation. As the work happens behind closed doors, behavior that would not be acceptable in a workplace—such as asking about one’s sexual interests—appears more acceptable.

  Additionally, the male-dominated environs of Silicon Valley seems to have a particular issue with sexual harassment. “In the same way that female engineers and start-up founders struggle to report harassment for fear of retaliation or lost funding, gig economy workers are in precarious positions,” says Sam Levin.20 Workers who report sexually uncomfortable situations risk being viewed as problem workers and often note their own concerns about the possibility of being deactivated for complaining.21 Finally, because of the lip service paid to community and trust, when workers experience situations that appear to be sexual harassment they don’t identify it as such. Instead, the focus is on feeling “uncomfortable.” This actually makes sense when one revisits the idea of community and trust—we expect to feel comfortable in a situation that promises these two ideals.

  Although Roxanne told Kitchensurfing about her selfie-taking, dinner-inviting client, she did not discuss the sexual invitation from her swinging clients. Describing herself as usually situated in midtown Manhattan, she noted that the clients lived uptown and she was unlikely to see them again. “I don’t think they knew you could request your chef. I’m glad they kind of don’t, because I don’t know how I’d feel if I went back there. I would probably just be like, ‘Hey, what’s up, guys?’” she said in an awkward tone.

  Perhaps because Kitchensurfing chefs are almost always in direct contact with clients, they find themselves exposed to sexual behavior more often than other sharing economy workers. For instance, asking Randall, forty-three, a Kitchensurfing marketplace chef about “really memorable experiences” revealed a gig cooking for what he first described as a “sex club” before clarifying that it was a “swingers, wife-swap-type party. Very bizarro-land.”

  Much in the way that clerical temporary workers are sometimes urged to dress more sexily and present a specific image, Randall was required by his client to wear a specific style of dress—his first sign that the event would be different.22 “It was just going to be passed hors d’oeuvres, and he requested that I wear my chef’s coat, which I don’t wear any more. I’m refusing. I don’t want to wear it any more. I wore it for twenty-five years. He was like, ‘I want you to wear a chef coat.’ And he was specific. ‘I want you to wear . . .’ Normally I would say, ‘No, I’m not going to do that.’ And then I was like, ‘Fine. What the hell. Why not? Let’s see if it fits,’” he said, laughing. “And then he was like, ‘Make sure you have a waiter who wears specifically this.’ ‘Okay.’”

  Except for the clothing requirements, Randall said he didn’t really get “the vibe” of what the party was going to be through his emails or other conversations with the client.

  So I get there, and it’s one of those UWS apartments. It’s one of those classic prewar ones, and it’s very gothic inside and everyone seemed kind of cool. It was probably twenty-five people, and they’re talking; and then I hear negotiations. They’re negotiating the sexual [activities that’ll be] happening, and I’m thinking, “Huh. Swingers club.”

  And there’s different rooms and different playrooms and swings and the whole thing. And then I’m, like, going, “Should I be wearing gloves working in this kitchen?” [Laughing.]

  When his staff seemed incredulous, Randall was quick to remind them not to get involved, no matter what happened. Describing it as “an experience,” he was quick to note, “They were great. They tipped great. They were friendly. It was fun.”

  The speed with which Randall explained away the experience, and even his laughter, brings to mind Marvin Scott and Stanford Lyman’s work on accounts. They describe an account as “a statement made by a social actor to explain unanticipated or untoward behavior—whether that behavior is his own or that of others.23 Randall noted that he didn’t know that the party would involve swingers (an appeal to defeasibility) but, at the same time, was quick to justify the experience by focusing on the fact that the partygoers were great, good tippers, and friendly.

  SERVING AS A “STRANGER IN THE HOUSE”

  In addition to the temporary nature of the work, sharing economy workers—digital records and backgrou
nd checking aside—are essentially strangers and, unless specifically requested, are unlikely to be seen again. Randall suggested that his status as a “stranger in the house” is part of his appeal to clients.

  RANDALL:

  Another favorite thing is for me to go to the house and they go and screw while I’m there.

  INTERVIEWER:

  Seriously?

  RANDALL:

  Yes. Very popular. Say a couple is having their ten friends over, and they’re not there yet. So I usually get there two hours before. So, say someone hasn’t showered yet, and they’re like, “Hey, the kitchen is over here. I have to go take a shower.” And then they both disappear. And then you hear the shenanigans. And I’m like . . . First, I thought it was like, “Oh, okay.” But now I think it’s a thing, too.

  INTERVIEWER:

  Really? Like an exhibitionist thing?

  RANDALL:

  Like a thing.

  INTERVIEWER:

  How do you feel about that?

  RANDALL:

  I’m okay with it. Whatever. Who cares. I don’t care. If that’s what they need. Cool. Whatever. It has happened on multiple occasions. The first time, I was with [a colleague], and I was like, “I think they’re fucking in there.” And he was like [said sternly], “They are.”

  The experience has become common enough that Randall now takes bets with his staff about what will happen while they’re on-site. His bet? That the couple will be “doing it.” “I usually win. Most of the time it’s yes,” he said, laughing. “Maybe it’s something that people think about, they fantasize about. Strangers in the house or something, and I provide that. I have to be kind of confidential anyway. They probably think I’m going to be confidential because I’m cooking for them or something. I guess it provides them anonymity to a degree. It’s great. It’s great.”