Friday, February 10, 2012

I'm Just One Of The Girls!

Today I found out that I was one of the girls. In some circles that bit of cheery news would probably be viewed as fantastic.  Not in my circle though. I am a guy. So just how did this gender inversion happen? Well, truth be told, I am an elementary school teacher in a profession pretty much dominated by women.  In most cases, I am either the only guy in the building or one of a small minority.  That’s okay with me until the lunchroom talk starts centering on ”women talk.”

I have had to sit through untold discussions of pregnancies, complete with blow-by-blow descriptions of water breaking, childbirth, and nursing.  Stories of wedding plans, doofus husbands, inconsiderate boyfriends, bridal showers and pediatricians liven up my day.   Today the discussion was about how uncomfortable it was doing Pilates when you are bloated and cramping. I immediately looked skyward, silently pleaded to make it stop, and started to roll my eyes. It was then I was informed of my new status.  That was when my cramped and  bloated colleague looked at me and said, "Oh Barry, I consider you one of the girls!"   My worst nightmare has now come true.   Barry Scott, expert in martial arts, Giants, Bruins, UFC fan, and all around tough guy is now one of the girls.  I didn’t know whether to laugh, cry or go home and tuck into a pint of Ben and Jerry’s. 

We don't discuss  sports much, although we had some good critiques of the Super Bowl commercials. The David Beckham commercial was a big hit with my girls.  I, being a former guy, was too wrapped up in the game to concentrate on the commercials.  I watched it on Youtube and wasn’t too impressed.  Too many tats and he did misspell his wife’s name in Sanskrit.  I do manage to talk a bit about the Boston Bruins, but invitations to the newest handbag party usually shout me down.  Handbags/manbags; I hear they are big in Europe. 

Well, maybe my newfound gender won’t be too bad.  I can talk about the latest chick-flick without being embarrassed. I can have my wife mow the lawn or plow the driveway and not feel guilty.  Most importantly, I can finally ask for directions. 

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