I had a big errand to run, in a nearby town. The dehumidifier for the basement had failed, and I wanted to get a new one before the cold front blasted through…and before the “right before Christmas rush. Sooo… out the door I went, in black stirrup leggings, purple turtleneck long tunic and black ballet flats, with bare ankles, a women’s zip-front cardigan, my purse, long hair and pink nails, and info on the unit I planned to buy at the home improvement store.
When I arrived, I tried to find the units myself, but there weren’t any.
A friendly-looking 30-something girl was stocking shelves, so I approached her with the pages about the unit I wanted at the ready, held in one hand with my long pink nails in plain view. “May I help you, Ma’am?” “Yes, Miss. I’m trying to find one of these, and the website says you have inventory.” As another employee went by my clerk exclaimed to her “Wow, she came prepared!” And she proceeded to rummage through the inventory system, to find a skid of them tucked away in a different department. She walked with me to the units, and spoke to the male clerk there – “This lady needs one of those but I don’t run the lift.” He glanced at me and said “No problem, ladies.” And he got the lift, bringing down the unit.
“Sir, it’s too heavy for me to carry…could you please get that to a front register for me?” “Certainly, Ma’am.” And he delivered it to the register, where the 20something female clerk looked at me, the name on my credit card, my pink nails and ballet flats, and said “I love your leggings…did you get them locally?” No, they’re several years old, bought out of state. But they’re so comfortable that I love them! Thanks for asking.” Then she inquired “Would you like some help delivering it to your car, Ma’am?” “Yes, Miss, that would be so nice.” And she delegated that job to a nice strong under-20 type guy, who was happy to help. “Please drive up to this door, Ma’am – I’ll load it into the trunk for you.”
I did, and he did. “Thank you Sir!” “Thanks for shopping with us, Ma’am. Have a Merry Christmas!” “I will, hon…thanks…you too!”
My “male privilege” is almost completely gone, now that I look and act more like a woman than a man. It would be out of place for a woman to assert what would immediately be assumed to be fake. I don’t even try. And I’m perfectly fine with that…since I’ve gained something much better: namely, “female privilege.” That’s much more civilized and generally more pleasant. I (and wife and I when out together) haven’t had to open store doors or stand in waiting rooms if men are around, in a long time!
But I also seem to have acquired the local equivalent to the term “woman driver.” Driving with the window down on a nice day, I’ve heard that term used for me a few times. I guess I’ll take the good with the bad!
Hugs,
Mandy






