Part of my highly glamorous and important job means that in addition to my work e-mail, I’m also the recipient of my company’s “info@” account. Therefore, I get a series of bizarre, random and often offensive e-mails hourly. You’d think the ones that drive me nuts would be the nasty complainers or people who ask stupid questions, the answers to which they’d have to read several times just to find the “info” e-mail address. But no, not them. While annoying, I simply file them under wacko and move on. You want to know what really chaps my hide?
I am sitting in an office capably staffed exclusively by women. Somehow, in between changing our tampons and crying at Oprah, we manage to like, balance a checkbook and run a non-profit. On occasion, I actually get the curt and impersonal “Gentlemen” in which case, I always respond, “Dear Madam.”
Here’s the thing. It’s 2006. It’s not like I’m breaking through some glass ceiling like a character in 9 to 5, thwarting sexual harassment and blatant discrimination at every water cooler. I was raised by someone who suffered through that so I wouldn’t have to. And the notion that every company is, at the very top, led by a man is not only offensive, it’s stupid and requires immediate retaliation.
My grandfather lived next door to a woman who, to his immense amusement, wouldn’t bank at the local branch because their manager was a woman. I met this nut when I was a kid and can still recall my horror and disgust at her views and corresponding outfit. Who are these people and why are they still alive?
If you’re hip enough to e-mail, you should be sane enough to consider the fact that the person on the other end of that crazy internet just might possess a vagina. And perhaps even a brain…