Week before last I got to go to a weeklong work training.
26 people, four women.
I was pretty sure I’d be the only one, but when I found out there would be four of us I wondered if we would all group together and make our own enclave. Or should I say coven?
When I got there, that is not what happened.
It turns out I like working with men, which is good because that’s all I’ve done. I’ve always been in male dominated careers.
Yep. Never a line to the bathroom when I’m at work.
I started out in information technology, and those guys were far more likely to try to impress me with their knowledge of database configuration.
Now I’m management in construction, and they don’t do they. These guys are simpler: they wink at me.
Both groups do a lot of “mansplaining” but the new construction guys are more tedious because the subject matter is more basic.
Although they do a better job of offering to lift heavy boxes.
So there’s that.
At my training, I got to meet people from all over the country, which is fun. I met a guy who was from the Minneapolis office.
“I’ve been to Minnesota. Everyone is named Krista.”
He was actually from California, but moved to the twin cities because his GF was from there. Now she’s his wife.
“Is her name Krista?”
He laughed.
Then there were the guys from Texas: Boots. They know the answers, but they don’t rush to tell you.
The ones from New York, they tell you. They tell you like they are mad you don’t know already. But that’s just they way they talk. They aren’t really mad, you know?
They actually will help you and be really nice about it. As long as you are listening, they are very sweet.
The guys from Chicago, well, don’t interrupt them. I have learned this. They will talk fast and ramble on, but there’s this thing about interrupting that can totally derail the conversation. If I interrupt with a comment, polite Chicago boy will stop, which was not required, and when I invite him to keep talking, he’ll consider that and interruption too and we have to wait quite a while for him to gather his courage enough to continue the conversation.
It’s a bit awkward, but they are nice guys.
I have to wonder if these guys have a whole other way of talking to each other that is different from how they talk to me, a woman.
I wish I could find out.
It’s not that I want to be a man. I just kind of wish I could find the zipper and unzip this woman suit and step out into the world a smooth green genderless alien.
And that I could interact with people based on my knowledge and experience, not on the shape of my body.
Haven’t found the zipper yet.