I wrote this almost ten years ago. I was managing a toy store, and found myself working with a high ratio of women to men (high school girls = lots, guys = me). I ran across it and laughed enough to post it here. Even though the tone in the post is complaining about the amount of estrogen, it couldn't have been that bad. One of the females mentioned was so beautiful and awesome, she's now my wife!
I'm outnumbered. It's hopeless, and I give up. The game is thrown, and I am left as alone as Tom Hanks and as beaten as the Arizona Cardinals.
That's right, I work with a store full of girls. I am the single male in the workplace. I am constantly seeing girls running around dressed like Eskimos while whining incessantly about the temperature. The employee journal and dry erase board are full of doodles of flowers and hearts. Easter candy is popping up in my box, and I know the Easter Bunny hasn't come yet. He wouldn't be able to make it through the stack of purses and lovely handbags.
The bathroom is clean and smells rosy fresh. I've even been trained to put the toilet seat down. Husbands may not learn their entire lives to do this, but that's because for them the female to male ratio is one. For me, it's around fourteen. When you've been cornered by fourteen angry girls, putting down the toilet seat is easy to do.
I am critiquing prom dresses by the dozens. I am now considered an expert. You see, I am not naive or dumb enough to say what I really think. Each and every dress is stunningly gorgeous on each of its models and brings out the best qualities of each girl. I have made the innocent mistake of flattery, and now they're hooked. They parade before me in colorful costumes clammering for accolades.
I am learning to gift wrap. Even though I cringe and develop a twitch when a customer requests this service, I can now fudge my way through it. I still have plenty to learn. My idea of wrapping a gift involves the funnies page and a twisty tie. A girl's idea of wrapping a gift includes sharp corners and immaculately flat sides. I think they use an iron to get the wrinkles out. Cards, stickers, and fourteen feet of ribbon are essential. This is no light undertaking. Plan on using an entire afternoon or longer. We actually have customers coming back to pick up their gifts days later. My wrapping does not qualify as a work of art, but it will get you on your way in thirty seconds flat. I accept no responsibility if you are later coerced into bringing the present back because it looks like it had a run-in with with Senor Papershredder and Monsieur Weedeater in a dark alley.
Speaking of gifts, the girls feel compelled to aid me in my routine searches for (belated) gifts. If I know it's my dad's birthday, I will buy something, and quick. The girls despise this, because it "shows no thought". A girl, even if flawless in every other way, needs her gifts to "show a little thought", which is defined as "shopping every store in the known universe until the recipient is dead, in which case you should do the thoughtful thing and pick up a sympathy card as well."
Hmmm...a sympathy card. That would be a nice touch. I sure could use one. I could decorate the envelope with pretty stamps and stickers. But first, I need to go get a sweater because it's really cold in here. Really, really cold. I'm freezing.
I worked with you there... The only time you were my "boss". I never modeled a dress for you! You didn't mention that you married one of those girls (not me!) :) *insert flower doodles here* *and here* *heart doodle here* *multi colored curli-cue over here* *metalic sharpie smile face in the corner*
Did too mention it!
I love that one time you were my boss and one time I was your boss.
It was fun.
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