myanmar womanI've been working since before I was of legal working age.
When I was only 10, my girlfriend Danielle and I went to a nearby Chinese-Cuban restaurant in Newkirk Plaza (I lived in Brooklyn then) and started bussing tables. We didn't ask for a job. We just started doing it. (They were very kind to us, humoring us and slipping us a couple bucks at the end of the day for us to load up on bubblegum.)
That's not the point.
When I was 15 I lied about my age and got a job at a local Davanni's. I spent my first real paycheck on dinner theater tickets for my mother and stepdad. They still brag about it, but damn... it felt great.
I like to spend on people. I like to spoil people. I like to give.
I'm not buying love here. It's just who I am.
It's not about money. It's about sharing with other, giving to others, and all that sappy kindergarten shit. (I went to a seriously hippyesque love-fest day care. It must have profoundly impacted me.)
I give. So what?
Is it that women are more programmed to give, in general? Do we give more? I know some do, but... I sure know plenty that don't give shit!
Here's the deal... FINALLY!
Why is it that the scales always lean so heavily to one side?
Hey, if I were being taken to Fugaise for muscles and champaigne on a regular basis, I might not mind always having to scrub the toilet. If I were carried off to island paradises and exotic adventures, I might not mind taking full responsibility for the laundry. If I had the perfect stainless steel kitchen with a large center island and a fireplace, I might not mind doing the dishes every night (or at least the nights when I'm not taken out to La Belle Vie). If I were living in the lap of luxury, I might not mind handling all the bills.
But as it stands, I always seem to do all these things, with little reward.
I am woman; hear me roar. And I will keep roaring as I hold the doors open for the men behind me and continue to wash their dirty underwear.
I work. I work hard. I play, so that others can play with me. I give every ounce of support I can, in order to help people be who they long to be. And I continue to scrub the shit from the toilet.
And to top it off, I won't even let you buy me dinner.
3 comments:
You should always let them buy you dinner. It's the least they can do.
There is a book that came out about the time Ali was born about this new age of women who think they need to be good at EVERYTHING and if they are not they feel they are complete failures. I think it was titled "Supermom" or something similiar and it spoke about the impossible lives of women who feel they need to balance a fufilling full time career, a fufilling more than fulltime job of being an excellent, PTA, bake cookies for the Fair, make home-made Valentine's type of a mom, coupled with STILL carrying the weight of 80% of the chores around the house. They are also, naturally, supposed to have a rewarding relationship with their spouse, their family and several friends.
WHEW!!!
Yeah right.
I feel damn amazing when I just make it through the day.
You ARE amazing for making it through the day, t.
And, Jen... I agree.. but I just can't seem to do it. If I care, then I can't do it; and if I don't care... well then I just don't go to dinner.
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