Oh, Sweet Gaydar -- Prove Thy Merits in the Office

The current work placement offers a bevy of awkward, office moments detailed with a delicate hand by yours truly. From awkward speculations on this blogette's sexual orientation to off-hand and inappropriate comments on queer kids in general, I have ample stories to divulge from the front lines of the paper-pushing world.

It all changes tonight.

Between the stacks of filing and the endless rebate claim forms, I found myself at the heart of a conversation that set the ol' Gaydar for a loop.

Of course, there's a woman involved -- she's a fellow summer "student," where student is code for "two inches from unemployment but still considered young enough to be 'student' material." I shall name her AXC for the sake of the blog. Another of the summer "students" shall be known as iPod Ears (for her startling, MP3-induced hearing loss) and there's a full-timer in the mix as well. Whoa, this is getting complicated -- I imagine most gossip takes on this hue.

Anyhow, on to the tale:

Setting: CSR corner, afternoon. Miz Moffatt sifts through a monstrous stack of loose papers and disorganized files. She pouts and occasionally staples. AXC is in the same space as the filing cabinet where Miz Moffatt pouts.

Enter: iPod Ears with a message for the Full-Timer in question. iPod Ears stops for a quick chat.

iPod Ears: I just started getting into Lost. I never watched an episode before I heard about the finale. Now, I'm on, like, season three.

Full-Timer: Yeah, I've never seen Lost before. I heard it's a good one. A little weird, but good once you're into it.

iPod Ears: What other shows are you in to?

(Miz Moffatt misses the first half of the response after an ill-timed CSR outburst)

Full-Timer: .... United States of Tara. It's all shows on Showcase or the Movie Network, now.

iPod Ears: Have you seen Mad Men?

Full-Timer: No--

iPod Ears: OH my God, it's SO GOOD. It's set in, like.... the 1950s, I guess?

Full-Timer: That's the one with the woman with the huge tits on her, right?

iPod Ears: Yeah, the red head?--

AXC: (Across the room) CHRISTINA HENDRICKS!!

iPod Ears: Yeah! That's her.

AXC: Aah, she's so curvaceous and so beautiful. I watch it just for her.

Full-Timer: And she's got f**king huge tits. (Note: I am not even inventing this language).

iPod Ears: Aww, I know. She's so pretty.

AXC: She's gorgeous. (Miz Moffatt notes a slight exhalation from AXC, a sigh perhaps...?)

*End Scene*

EDIT (06/10/10): I should also add the Full-Timer is a woman. I realise I did not make that clear the first time around.

.... I took a mental double-take at the situation. I know straight gals discuss the merits and physical attributes of other women. I know these same straight gals are also comfortable enough to remark over another woman's attractiveness. But, there was a subtle shift with AXC. I know I can't quite capture the tone of it all in print, but it was there.

Am I not the only gay in the office?

I sense a new project on the horizon....

Thoughts on the Loss of the Work Crush

This week marks the one-month return to the full-time summer "student" gig at the same pool parts manufacturing plant I worked at in 2009. One down, three and a half months to go. Oh, the time -- she passes in a languid fashion.

It took a solid two weeks before this rather irksome realization dawned on me -- I have lost the elusive work crush.

She still works there. I was off for four months on account of the contract ending and the loss of vigorous business for a Canadian, pool-based manufacturer over the winter. And just like that, the spark was snuffed out.

I knew it was illusory at best and I knew it had no future. Crushes on married, straight women often have an expiration date in sight. Still, I miss the mild thrill of it. I hadn't been in the thick of a silly, over-amplified world of romantic futility for years and it was strange how refreshing it felt. And WHAM! -- it's gone. No glitter, no cartoon hearts, heck, not even a sign of smoke to follow.

It is done.

And so, I return to the world of rebates, spreadsheets, and filing without the quiet lift of energy each time she walks past.

*Sigh*

All work and no play makes Miz Moffatt a...... something something.....

And the Gossip Grows...

I can feel it, readers -- the slow shift started with an awkward conversation pertaining to The Oscars and it continues to clot the halls at the office...

The sudden interest around this blogette's love life is approaching alarming levels on the work front. And, might I add, none of this was proffered by me.

I assume it has a great deal to do with my age. I turn 24 next month and I am still single. In most cases, outsiders tend to start questioning the single gals once the mid-20s roll around, you know, since we're all supposed to be desperate to marry and have babies and whatnot.

I never discuss crushes or infatuations in the office, mostly because I find it unprofessional to do so (whether queer or straight, I often find the personal life is best kept in the private realm).

And the woman instigating this investigation is now in her 60s.

This week, we've had some gents in the office delivering office furniture, rearranging cubicles, and wrestling with the beast that is the air conditioning system. All I did was wander into her office to ask about payment procedures and I was met with:

"Oh, did you get a good look at the guy fixin' the air conditioning?? Oh, he is something. I mean, I know I'm married 'n' all, but I can still look, can't I?! A HA HA HA! How 'bout you. You get a good look, too? Hmm??"

I mumbled something about spreadsheets and rebates and then returned to the question at hand.

Ah, deflection -- it takes a talent to change the subject with a smooth hand.

Did I mention this afternoon marked the eighth day back in the office?

Hmm.

Awkward Office Moments RETURN!

So it begins -- awkward office moments RETURN. For new readers or Internet wanderers, feel free to check out previous posts on this subject. I dealt with awkward "girl talk" moments in front of my mother and suffered through two moments with the Office Matchmaker (including insinuations over my "desperation" for a man and her offensive monologue about butch women and their style) in 2009 alone.

Sure, there was a four-month gap between contracts at this same office, but the gossip continues even in those absences.

Shall we take a gander at the first week back?

***

Awkward Moment One: Lunchroom Lowdown.

It all starts with a harmless question: "So, did you watch The Oscars this year?" I nod. "Yeah, or... well, I watched the first half without sound. I was talking to a friend of mine through the first half. He tends to call on Sundays and it just happened to be around the time The Oscars was on so I was giving the play-by-play for the first part. I watched the second half with sound, though." The topic turns to films for a moment with a basic rundown of which Best Picture movies we'd actually seen. A lull emerges. And then, the pause is filled with: "Just jumping back in the conversation for a minute -- WHO'STHISGUYYOUWERETALKIN'ABOUT?AREYOUTWODATING?AREYOUINTERESTEDINHIM?WHATABOUTYOURLOVELIFEINGENERAL?!

Whoa. Whoa, now. I explain: "Oh, no, he's one of my best friends. He was one of the guys I lived with while I was at school. He's like a brother to me, you know?" A knowing glance from the gossiper. "Mmm hmm. So, there's no one in your life, then? Romantically?"

No. And, even if I was straight, I would not talk to you about it.

For interested readers, this is the same woman who was not aware that NEW theatre is created even in 2010.

*Sigh*

***

Awkward Moment Two: Lesbians Comin' Out the Woodworks.

I found out via the technical person I work with that one of our service professionals went through a rather difficult divorce last summer. We are attempting to reconcile his account with us, but it was his wife who controlled the books -- since she left in the middle of the pool season, he had no one to cover the books but himself.

The plot thickens.

"Yeah, poor guy. He had everything hit him at once. Turns out his wife is a lesbian and she left him for her partner. That's got hurt. I mean, it must cut a guy at the ego when his wife leaves for someone else, let alone for a woman. There was more than one phone call with him that ended in him crying and confiding to me about it. Yeesh."

Which was all then followed by: "Oh, hey, here's a joke for you: What do you call two lesbians in a closet? ..... A 'lick-er' cabinet. Get it? Instead of, like, liquor you drink? Huh?"

I laughed considering these two stories were told in one breath. Oh, goodness.

***

So, quite a fruitful first week for awkward office moments. I tend to attract these types of oddities. I think it ties in with the general air of approachability I exude. People feel comfortable confiding in me, for better or for worse.

The writer in me appreciates all the strange conversations, especially of the queer-themed variety.

***

Conversely, I can think of one non-awkward, thrilling thing you could do to kick off your weekend. Why not head over to The Best Travel Job Ever and vote for The Advocate? She's moving up the charts at a right good pace now but she needs every last vote to put her on that plane.

Look at her, so chipper and wanderlusting. Send that lady packin', I say!

At-Work Crush and Catwoman: OH MY!

I have a bit of a confession to make -- I've been nursing an at-work crush for the last few months now. I know, I know -- how did I neglect to mention this earlier, especially considering this a blog dedicated to the loveliness of ladies the world over?

There are numerous reasons for my silence:

• She is married, a mother.... and quite straight. I have deduced this from the varied conversations in which she discusses said husband.
• I know her through work and I tend to keep the private and public spheres as separate as possible.
• I hate admitting to crushes on straight girls because I know it will go nowhere, even while another side of me is calculating the chances I have to lure her away from the boys for good...

I have resisted the urge to discuss her adorable French-Canadian accent, her insistence on parking beside my car every day without fail, and her tendency to chat with me more than our co-workers even though the nature of our jobs keep us on opposite sides of the office.

It's enough to get a gay girl's heart a-flutter.

And then, she had to go and find one of the hottest costumes to wear for the unofficial Hallowe'en office bash. 

Catwoman. 

And not just any Catwoman, but the Catwoman made famous by Julie Newmar -- as in, the reason I watched reruns of the 1960s, live-action Batman as much as I did when I was a young'un.

An additional note about this office crush of mine -- she tends to wear her hair up all the time. It's a tight, clean look and very professional. Today? Oh, she let her hair down. Picture it: gorgeous waves of chestnut hair spilling across her shoulders and two cute cat ears perched on the crown of her head.... Sheer radiance, I tell you.

Hallowe'en proves, yet again, why it reigns supreme as THE GREATEST HOLIDAY OF THE YEAR.

Awkward Office Moments: Round Two

Perhaps I'm anticipating Monday morning -- with the news of my sister's engagement poised to spread throughout our office, I am certain that the Awkward Office Moments will explode in ways I cannot even anticipate.

Yet.

As it stands, I ran into two rather awkward moments with, you guessed it -- the Office Matchmaker herself. I was lulled into a false sense of security over the past month. I thought maybe she'd turned her efforts elsewhere.

Alas. No one shall be spared. Or, rather, I shall not be spared until my contract is wrapped and tied with a big, shiny ribbon.

Scene One: Wednesday, August 19, 2009. Mid-morning. Miz Moffatt flips through another stack of mail, searching for the rebate stragglers. The OM stares and date-stamps invoices. Enter Finky, the office jokester and all-around cool guy. He spots the stack of mail and stops to chat.

Finky: HEY! It's MAAAAIL TIIIIIIIIIME! THE MAIL'S HERE!

Miz Moffatt: YEAH! You better believe it's mail time.

Finky: Aren't you gonna sing the song?

Miz Moffatt: ...The mail song?

Finky: Yeah, if it's mail time, you've got to sing the Mail Song. Geeze, [Miz Moffatt], it's company policy. Haven't you ever seen-

The OM: MALE song?? Oh come on, now, [Finky] -- is this some kind of song to help [Miz Moffatt] with the guys? Like a Siren's song or something?

Finky: *Confused/weirded out*.... What? What are you talking about?

The OM: Well you said "male time," and I thought you meant it was some kind of song to grab the attention of some cute guys. *Looks over to Miz Moffatt, trying to wink -- Miz Moffatt keeps her head down, an inborn defense against matchmakers everywhere*

Finky: *Laughing* No, it's the Mail Song. *Points at the mail in Miz Moffatt's hands* My sons are big on Blue's Clues right now and they've got this mail song they're always singing. I was making a reference to THAT. Why would I be telling her to sing a song for MALES?

The OM: Oh, HAHA! Look at me, my mind is just too creative -- mistaking "mail" for "male." I thought I was going to have to call HR on you, [Finky]. I thought you were being inappropriate, a ha ha!

Finky: *Motioning to me, trying to make light of the awkwardness* Yeah, well -- you shoulda heard what we were talkin' about yesterday!

Miz Moffatt: *Nods and insinuates she's on the inside of confidential, if somewhat racy, office conversation*

... Yeah, I would say The OM was certainly being "creative".... if by "creative" you mean "out of her mind" or "particularly challenged by the English language."

Scene Two: Friday, August 21, 2009. Early afternoon.

This next episode was a long one. I don't think I could do it justice in a script format. I got trapped at The OM's desk for about fifteen minutes while she told me about this "amazing show" she dedicates hours to on the weekend. It's this lame, Canadian-made show called Style By Jury. It's another one of your formulaic makeover series where they take unsuspecting, 'unattractive' specimens and transform them with traditional concepts of feminine/masculine accessories and 'life coaching.' Except, with this series, the style-challenged individual is subjected to the judgments of her peers, or the 'jury' in this case. The first round is always brutal, but the jury changes their minds after the makeover.

I've seen it. And I'm not particularly impressed with it.

Anyway -- The OM has now made it her mission to get me 'hooked' on the show by reciting previous episodes to me while I'm trying to print off cheque batches. She talked about one she'd seen last weekend where this brilliant, though socially-inept, scholar was scrubbed, polished, and remolded into some sort of fashionista. Why do I bother to point this out?

.... Oh, perhaps it had something to do with The OM's blunt and embarrassing assessment of butch women.

This scholar was 'butch,' according to The OM. She also referenced two previous episodes where 'butch' women were featured as the fashion abominations. 

But it was the language she used to describe them. 

The OM kept focusing on the fact that these women were just "SO unattractive, I mean, really butch" and how "they had closets with no skirts and no dresses and not even a pair of cute shoes or anything." 

I think what caught me the most off-guard was the idea that The OM felt this show was, and I quote, "giving these women a chance to express who they really are" -- she tried to argue that these women "were just so masculine and butch because they'd never really been given the chance to be feminine."

.... WHAT DA DONK?!  In retrospect, I think this is less of an awkward moment and more of a fumin' mad, irritated with traditional concepts of gender and the attempt to include me within heteronormative assessments of others, kind of moment. It was just the ease that The OM had with the idea that feminine woman = normal, butch woman = abnormal, must change to make acceptable. 

I'm struggling to find the words to explain my internal reaction to this. It was just another one of those moments when you realise how powerful the status quo IS and how rarely people within that space question such assumptions. It was eerie at best, I tell you.

Should be interesting to see what Monday brings.....

Awkward Office Moments: Round One

Here it is -- the first installment of Awkward Office Moments starring Miz Moffatt.

As a more than half 'in' lesbian, navigating the public realm and the working world can be a daunting one. I've been outside the protective university bubble for just over a year now and it still amazes me how subtle yet pervasive traditional ideas can be.

A bit of background: in the last year, I've been laid off twice. My Mom managed to get me a summer contract position at her office and I am currently the Rebate Queen at a major pool manufacturing office. Essentially, I screen all the rebate claims pouring in to our office and decide if the customer meets all of our requirements or not. Yes = MONEY! No = Rejection letter and the potential hassle of an irritated customer.

My Mom and I get along well -- she's an accountant and we share similar work ethics/approaches to projects (which makes sense considering she instilled many of my anal retentive habits when it comes to filing). Anyhow, it's a tricky environment to navigate -- I'm the daughter of a full-timer. Right away, co-workers deal with me as an adult would a child despite the fact that I'm 23. As a result, I often find myself up against some rather invasive questions into my personal life, namely my love life. Granted, I assume most women would enter into these discussions in any office. It's one of those topics to debate, mull over, and all that jazz. In my case, since I am also thoroughly single, I tend to become the target of The Office Matchmaker rather quickly.

Lo, that is where I found myself this morning.

Mom was showing me a cover story from The Globe and Mail -- I can't quite remember the title, but it was some clever pun on a single farmer and how difficult it was to find a wife. Something about 'heartbroken in the heartland'....? Was it that blatant? Hmm, can't quite recall. Anyhow, Mom was pointing it out for the sake of making the "I dislike your sister's current boyfriend and think she should marry a good, hard-working man who will treat her well" argument. And hey, what better guy than a Quebecois farmer, right?

As Mom was showing me this article, I could feel The Office Matchmaker (hereby known as "The OM") tugging at my arm. I ignored her and kept sorting through the mail. The OM continued -- "Ooooh, a single guy who works the land? What a catch he would be, hmmmmm?" I respond with an awkward chuckle, averted eyes, and more mail shuffling.

She continues: "Oh, look at her, she's trying to ignore me, now. She doesn't want to admit in front of her Mom that she would be all over a guy like that if he walked into the room. And he's French, too. He speaks the language of ~love~ right there." I start sorting through the mail faster in an attempt to escape.

I see two epic issues with this office moment:

1. The OM kept on pushing, regardless of the fact that I would not take the bait.
2. The OM tried to get me to evaluate/check out a man WHILE MY MOM WAS THERE.

I mean, she doesn't know I'm gay, so I can excuse the whole "it's WRONG for a girl your age to be without a man!" mentality -- but, really? In front of my Mom? Like.... what?? Seriously? Seriously. 

I wanted so badly to just respond with the whole, "Yeah, see, I'm not attracted to men, so you can take a break and not worry about setting me up with anyone" but the thought of coming out to my Mom like THAT is horrifying at best. Slightly amusing if I put a sitcom spin to it, but I know Reality would make it.... riDONKulous. In the negative sense.

I guess it made me realize how much I want to be out. I know I would come across new issues as an out woman at work, but I'm at the point where I'd rather try dealing with those than resigning myself to the whole tedious idea of hetero-normative behaviour.

Blargh. Mondays are silly things.