June 10th, 2004
|02:40 pm - Yay for being straight and caucasian! Er, wait. No.|
This morning as I was coming out of my house, three women were riding past on bicycles, and I was just in time to hear somebody leaning out the window of a passing car yell, "...and dyke number three! Three dykes on bikes!" Judging by his voice, he was probably about thirteen, but I kind of hope he's a junior in college and hasn't quite hit the peak of puberty yet.
Then I was downstairs getting coffee and somebody was looking at the sandwiches in the vending machine.
"Polish on a bun with kraut," she read aloud.
Another guy who was inspecting the candy selection said "Sounds pretty kinky."
This inspired a chuckle from her, and admittedly, I was mildly amused. Then she said "Not that kinky. If it's a Pole and a Kraut, they probably wouldn't be able to figure it out."
"Insert tab 'A' into slot 'B,'" he said. More laughter. "No! Slot 'B!' 'B!'" By this time I was glancing through yesterday's newspaper (Madonna has a new children's book out, and one of Stoughton's community leaders just died, by the way). The conversation turned into a string of risque ethnic jokes. Somebody else walked into the break room, and the conversation abruptly stopped. He bought a soda, left, and the woman whispered what I'm pretty sure was "I think that guy's a faggot."
I don't know who either of these people are and I'm not sure what about my appearance made them think it would be okay to act like that in my presence. It's not okay in an office setting. Period.
Upstairs things were more pleasant. Since I've taken tomorrow off, we're celebrating my birthday at work today. "Celebrating" simply means that the AEG baked me a cake, but that's plenty. I'm worried, though, that I'll come in on Monday to a huge mess at my desk, as has happened the last two years. I do not like having the things at my desk screwed with, and my birthday is not a good enough reason to have to put up with it. I'll be quite angry if I find that my work has been hidden somewhere else in the department. In the back of my mind I have a secret wish that someday they'll hide something important, I won't realize it, and the subsequent $14,000 write-off puts a damper on pranks like that.
My fortune cookie from lunch:
The cleanest bed is
the one never slept in.
Can't really add "in bed" to that one. Sorry.
Current Mood: hungry
Current Music: Ruth White -- Flowers of Evil
Thank you, Matt! As I mount this ripe, old age of 24, I raise my cane to thee!
I'm not sure what that means either, really.
I regularly get "Hey babe, could you [insert random task here]?" from one of my bosses. (Note: It isn't meant to be derogatory.) That's on the mild end of the things that the full-time staff says around me. I can't help but wonder if I'm "one of the guys," or if being one of three female employees has them toning it down when I'm around.
I'm frequently shocked by what people at my job consider acceptable behavior, in an office or anywhere. You could consider pointing this out the next time it happens. You know something like "You know, I'd really appreciate if you two would be rude and biggoted somewhere else, I'm trying to eat/work/use the bathroom."