Sometimes I really loathe my line of work. "My first choice for him is a small engineering school in California."
Harvey Mudd, I think to myself. I swear I could recite a college guidebook in my sleep.
"Where in California?"
"It's one of the Claremont schools. Harvey Mudd."
Bingo. I smile.
"Hmm. Never heard of it."
If only THIS had been the offensive conversation I'm reflecting on as I consider my time the locker room this morning. As a third woman entered the conversation, mentioning that "We have applied to Michigan, Northwestern and Yale," I made my way to the showers and wondered how we ever reached this level of frenzy and coddling in the application process. Will "our" names appear on the diploma? Will you get written up for underage drinking WITH your son? Perhaps. When mothers call saying, "I'm just filling out my son's application and have a question," I figure parents living in the dorms with their kids can't be too far down the line.
Still, I wish the conversation was still colleges when I emerged FROM the shower.
Too often guys are scolded for their legendary "locker room" chatter. Generation after generation mothers have warned their daughters against ever becoming a subject of conversation in that lair of testosterone. I must say, however, the conversation between these three women defied any level of intimacy of locker room lore with which I'm familiar.
"You see, I had a very hard labor," started the woman. She was likely in her late 40s. She was the one currently applying for admission to Michigan with her son. "Well, when you push that hard for that long, I guess it's pretty common. I'm just so sick of this bladder problem so I'm getting it fixed. They basically have to stitch me up, and I can't work for two weeks, and when I go back I can't sit at a desk for a while. And I'm pretty much banned from ever picking up heavy things again."
Ew. Ew. Ew.
She then went on to describe how she was so annoyed with everyone at work. Her colleagues were prying her for the details surrounding her upcoming medical leave. "It's just none of their business!"
Agreed. So how is it mine?
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2 comments:
Oh, honey, you'd never make it in my office. I know more about breast feeding than I EVER wanted to know (hell, I know more about it than most people who are currently doing it), and my only sin was not being important enough to be blessed with a door. I've also heard all manner of medical stories and am acquainted with the intimate dental details and frequency of herpes (oral only... I think) flare ups of one particular woman. Another coworker described how her best friend came to view said coworker's husband's penis. And there's a guy about whom I know nothing at all (including his name), except that he knocked up his girlfriend right before he was going to break up with her; she's now his wife.
This is really funny! I forgot how conservative DC was until I went to Seattle for the weekend. Then I remembered. My sister in law was nursing while walking through Target and a fabric store. I was at a loss for words.
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