Something sort of unsettling just happened and I'm not completely sure how I feel about it, other than a bit bloaty but that's most likely the 5-bean soup from lunch.
'Member that coworker of mine who asked about my sexy walk last week (I'm currently marketing it as Centaur Chic; watch your back, Katie Smith)? Well, today we're working on a project in from of my computer and she says, "Can I ask you a personal question?"
Here's a little insight into the mind of a functioning homosexual: No matter how comfortable we are with ourselves, how easy our coming out was, how much of a non-issue it is, when we hear the question, "Can I ask you a personal question?" our sexuality is the first place our minds go. This is then followed up with the thought that no one with whom we do not have a personal relationship would ever actually ask this, never mind a colleague while at your place of employment.
Then, without even waiting for so much as a head nod from me, Little Miss Goes-Against-The Grain comes right out (so to speak) with, "Are you gay?"
I reply, "Yes."
She says, "So is a friend of mine on this floor, Emily*."
I say, "Well, then it looks like our takeover is really coming along."
Now, I recognize the complete and utter inappropriateness of her question. That is like pre-Stonewall shit. It's pretty much just asking me what I enjoy doing with my penis and while I consider myself quite transparent, an informational liberatarian if you will, that question in this environment is the precise reason for PC Nazism in corporate environments and, moreover, it's just tacky. The only people that need to be concerned about the whereabouts of my penis are those whose body it directly enters. That said, I am torn between my discomfort in this situation and my ideal that sexuality should be a non-issue, as uncontroversial as eye colour. I've never hidden this aspect of myself, but I've also never volunteered it to anyone. These days, the closest I ever come to coming out is speaking about a crush/date/disappointment using a gender-specific pronoun. This was the first time in my life that someone has pointedly asked me, other than my parents who have a bit more of a vested interest in me than a coworker I've known for a week and a half. On the one hand, the question felt like a violation of privacy, but on the other, I'm pretty pleased with the way I dealt with it by making it a non-issue. I'm not about to raise a big stink about something when my position is that it shouldn't be stinky in the first place.
There's no wrap-up to this post...so here:
'Member that coworker of mine who asked about my sexy walk last week (I'm currently marketing it as Centaur Chic; watch your back, Katie Smith)? Well, today we're working on a project in from of my computer and she says, "Can I ask you a personal question?"
Here's a little insight into the mind of a functioning homosexual: No matter how comfortable we are with ourselves, how easy our coming out was, how much of a non-issue it is, when we hear the question, "Can I ask you a personal question?" our sexuality is the first place our minds go. This is then followed up with the thought that no one with whom we do not have a personal relationship would ever actually ask this, never mind a colleague while at your place of employment.
Then, without even waiting for so much as a head nod from me, Little Miss Goes-Against-The Grain comes right out (so to speak) with, "Are you gay?"
I reply, "Yes."
She says, "So is a friend of mine on this floor, Emily*."
I say, "Well, then it looks like our takeover is really coming along."
Now, I recognize the complete and utter inappropriateness of her question. That is like pre-Stonewall shit. It's pretty much just asking me what I enjoy doing with my penis and while I consider myself quite transparent, an informational liberatarian if you will, that question in this environment is the precise reason for PC Nazism in corporate environments and, moreover, it's just tacky. The only people that need to be concerned about the whereabouts of my penis are those whose body it directly enters. That said, I am torn between my discomfort in this situation and my ideal that sexuality should be a non-issue, as uncontroversial as eye colour. I've never hidden this aspect of myself, but I've also never volunteered it to anyone. These days, the closest I ever come to coming out is speaking about a crush/date/disappointment using a gender-specific pronoun. This was the first time in my life that someone has pointedly asked me, other than my parents who have a bit more of a vested interest in me than a coworker I've known for a week and a half. On the one hand, the question felt like a violation of privacy, but on the other, I'm pretty pleased with the way I dealt with it by making it a non-issue. I'm not about to raise a big stink about something when my position is that it shouldn't be stinky in the first place.
There's no wrap-up to this post...so here:
The Silky fuckin' Hen
*I've met Emily. She is so cool. I want to be that cool. I want to be a lesbian.
2 comments:
Your silky hen scares me! Mostly just because it reminds me of another silky-animal conversation I just had with someone on LJ. Someone in the Toronto comm asked where to buy horse shampoo and I, being a douche, replied that I only washed my horses with Pantene, to keep them silky. And now here you are with another silky barnyard animal. I'm afraid.
That important issue aside, yes to all of the rest of your post. Your co-worker had no business asking. If she was interested in you and trying to find out for her own sake, there are obviously better and more subtle ways! This just sounds like rampant curiosity coupled with the info entitlement complex everyone seems to have with regard to other people's sexuality. Not cool. I mean, it shouldn't be an issue, but neither should sex in general be such a large issue. Until it's less important to everyone in general, it will always feel like a slightly taboo topic, and if it feels like that, then it's automatically and not-okay thing to ask someone you barely know about point blank!
I'm feeling very ranty these days. I have a lot more I could unleash. Let me know. :P
I think you'd make a lovely lesbian.
When I read the situation, I think I would be less concerned with the fact she asked upfront - I like directness; rather, she so freely volunteered Emily's orientation - I doubt she asked your permission to advertise your sexuality to all the other LGBTQs she spies around the office...
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