How I Met Jane

One of the guys

“And will that be all for you ma’am?”

“Yes.”

“Ok, may I see your ID please?”

“Of course” Hands ID over to me.

“Oh honey, someone needs a manicure.”

I look down towards my hands, I hide a couple of fingers and slide the spiteful woman’s credit card while I wish horrible things to happen to her. Luckily for her, the word denied comes on my screen.

“Sorry ma’am your card has been declined,” I emphasis decline and say this aloud, “Next!”

This is the joy of working in retail. It’s hard to have pretty nails when you’re shoveling shoe boxes all the time, but screw her, she didn’t get the best of me.

So last week I went to get a pedicure and manicure.

I don’t remember the last time I got one, oh yeah when I was unemployed and depressed.

I had an Asian woman to my left telling me to “relax” and that I have dry skin. I had a man by my feet using power tools to get rid of dead skin. Soon he was going to bring out a mask and blow torch. He made my big toe bleed.

Besides slight embarrassment from my nails, I almost kicked him in the face. Who told him to massage my foot? Geeze, it took all of my mental and will power to not roundhouse kick him.

I show up to work the next day and no one really notices. I walk in a sad attempt with my nails on my face to get attention. “What’s wrong with you, does your face hurt?” Fail!

I’m one of the few girls on my team where the majority are guys, yet I don’t really fit in with the girls. Story of my life.

I’m with the guys as they’re drooling over girls talking about their figure and we quote movie lines and idiotic scenarios back and forth.

One day I have about 4 boxes stacked up, covering my sense of direction, and do you think anyone rushes to the door? Nope.

“Oh, Jane’s got that. Good job!”

Where Ms. Deana says a low, “ow” and everyone’s acute hearing leads them rushing to her.

“Are you OK? oh my glob, get a band-aid, get a band-aid now!”

“Umm, can someone help me with the shoe-boxes, I’m on the ladder.”

“Not now Jane, can’t you see that Deana may have cut her skin!?”

I mention this to my co-worker last night. After I said in a hormonal and low cry, “but I’m a girl too,” he couldn’t help but laugh.

“Of course I know you’re a girl, but you’re cool. You can talk about anything.”

“So, you and John had to come over to tell me a perverted joke about vaginas because I’m cool?”

“Yes.”

“Why?!”

“Hey, you laughed. That’s why!”

“Fail”

I have obviously failed at a girl. I’m attractive to a gay guy at work (who is the store manager and has better eyebrows than me), guys look at me as a guy, and I don’t even fit in with the lesbian at work either. What does this mean? Do I become a cross dresser and date gay guys? Do I become a lesbian and go after dikes? Am I suppose to go back to my blonde hair and talk about the Kardashian’s and how ugly I think that baby is going to come out?

I am so confused.

What makes this whole situation worse is when the co-worker I have a crush on comes up to me and talks about vaginas.

I have failed as a girl.

guys

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