I know, I've totally sucked on the updating of late. Can I TELL you how overly unbelievably busy I've been??
Meeting Monday morning in NYC. Meeting Monday afternoon in Jersey. Back late Monday night, try to get all kinds of work done. All day yesterday in Jersey. Back fairly early (around 7), try to catch up on work again. ALLLLLL day there today, out of the house at 8.30 am, back in the house at 11.30 am. Drinks and dinner with crushing client rep. Having to irritatingly call and reschedule my meeting with the cops to try to get my target permit tomorrow due to a total lack of time to get the necessary documents in order this week.
Speaking of crushing client. I am a bad person.
No, not THAT bad.
But here's the thing. As a chick, right? And a not hideous one. It is so incredibly to my advantage to get my male client persons to...um, crush.
I'm never, ever, ever downright misleading. I NEVER give anyone the impression that I'm interested in that particular sort of thing. I never imply that I'm up for grabs. I don't even overtly flirt.
But jesus, you men are easy. Seriously. It's so not hard, at least if you have any reasonable amount of contact and are not absurdly unattractive, to have you falling over yourself in courtship. I don't mean that in the arrogant sense -- I don't think, by far, that this is just me. I think it's YOU. You men, that is. I think you're suckers.
Yeah, that's blunt. Sorry. But really. Follow the dick and see where it gets ya.
In my case, it gets you nowhere. And not even nowhere fast. Nowhere over as long a period of time as I can possibly manage because quite frankly you male persons are nearly always the gender I have to bend and twist and cope with as client boss persons. The longer you're crushing, the easier it is for me to make things happen.
Have I mentioned that my Official Sales Suit shows an unusual amount of thigh? Guess how much of my sales presentations actually get seen. Like with the actual eyeballs of the typically male viewers. That would be...not so much.
I know, it's ridiculous. But fuck that shit. First, there's this economy. Second, there's the fact that I'm a baby CEO and if my goddamned ass gets me through the door because a bunch of 45 - 65 - year old white men with cigars can't think with their brains, my ass is heading out there. Third there's that whole double standard bullshit, and if I can take advantage of it, I am damn well going to.
Fourth, HA HA HA HA HA.
Yeah, that's me laughing at the male gender.
Granted this guy is a nice guy. In fact, part of the reason I can do this whole thing is because I enjoy his company and am fine with having a drink or two. But still. I have not made a single mention, nor really even given out any major vibes, and he is clearly en route to crush.
Yeah, I'm sure this makes me a Bad Person. But honestly this has always been my attitude towards this sort of thing. Like in a bar, right? A guy wants to hit on you...regardless of company (this I know, I've had it happen with my boyfriend standing right there) and buys you a drink? Hey, it's a free fucking drink, and your loss. Start looking at women as human beings instead of pieces of ass and maybe you'll save a few bucks.
Am I taking advantage? More than likely. Am I morally confused? Possibly. But still. Regardless of the guestbook-bombing that will likely take place, and even by those whom I care quite a lot about...the thing is, I fight every fucking day to be heard, to be seen as a person and not a chick, to be respected. My official dress uniform to Jersey is jeans and a t-shirt, both large and not revealing. I do play politics, but fuck, I'd go nowhere if I couldn't. Do I respect women, both before, during, and after my tenure on this earth who play it straighter? Yes.
In the meantime.
In the meantime, christ, men, you make it so fucking easy.
And you play your games, and I will play mine. Women in business so often tend to get one fucked shit or the other: either they're pretending to be men or they're wielding their skirts.
I'm a bit in the middle. I am honest, and I take responsibility for my actions. Not meaning men, meaning work. I have a deadline, I fucking well make it. I will tell people what I think when that is appropriate, and keep my mouth shut when it's not. I try not to be overbearing, but I will not hide under a desk, either. I have little patience with ass-covering. I can smell bullshit a mile away. I like the people I like, and dislike the ones I dislike, and neither influences my ability to accomplish what I set out to accomplish.
Still. Man. Stick a chick in a little skirt and give her big eyes and long legs and you guys just fucking melt.
I leave my cunt at home. Until the men learn to leave their dicks somewhere (to be sure, not all of them are like this, not by far, but so many of the ones in power seem to be) ... that's their problem.
Getting less popular by the minute,
onehanded
