Wednesday, June 1, 2016

Hazards of Love

As it turns out, love isn't always all it's cracked up to be.

Wait a minute.  Are you reading the right blog?  Me? Saying love isn't always amazing and wonderful and hearts and rainbows and puppy dogs?  What?

That's right, ladies and gentlemen.  I said it.  Why?  Because I've realized that there are unforeseen consequences to not being single.  Sure, it's wonderful to have someone around to spend time with, to share your day with, blah, blah blah.  But sometimes?  Sometimes, it's fairly inconvenient, for entirely unexpected reasons.

This past Sunday was a kindof a Bring Your Boyfriend to Work Day.  The wedding I worked had an onsite scrapbook, which requires an additional assistant.  Mark had worked with me on New Year's Eve for another wedding with a scrapbook, so I brought him along again and thought nothing of it.

Some background first. In the almost two years I've worked for Fish Eye Fun, I've become very accustomed to loading into venues and being offered help of one kind or another.  Furthermore, I fully realize that this help is usually offered because I'm a girl.  Valets offer to help me load or unload my car, or to push the cart, or to even take the cart from me entirely.  I usually decline the offer, since I have a particular order for loading and unloading my car, and am stubborn enough that I'm used to doing things myself.

While I've blogged before about the bad things that have happened or been said to me because I'm a woman, there are a lot of upsides to my gender.  These offers of help are one benefit, in spite of how many times I say, "No, thanks."  I appreciate that someone is more likely to hold the door for me or try to help, even if it's just because I'm a girl.  I really do.  Being nice and helpful is something I will almost always appreciate, regardless of the reason.  And rarely have I appreciated past so-called chivalry more so than this last weekend.

I was loading into a venue that I've loaded into several times before, always with absolutely no issue.  I've always been met at the entrance, accompanied to where I'm setting up, and escorted back at the end of the night.  I even told Mark that this was one of my favorite places to load into.

Well.

That night, nothing much went right in general (outside of having a fantastic picture night).  I wasn't helpfully accompanied to where I needed to go, and I definitely wasn't escorted back out at the end of the night like usual.  Which lead to several increasingly ridiculous elevator issues and just being frustrated in general.

I didn't understand.  What had happened?  Where was my usual lovely experience?  Where were the usually helpful people?  I told Mark I just didn't know why everything was so different, and he gave me a look and stated the obvious reason: I had a man with me.

And he was right.

I had brought my boyfriend, essentially bringing along my own help in the eyes of everyone else.  Men don't usually offer to help women who already have a man with them.  Even though I recognize that I get offers of help because I'm a girl, I never stopped to consider what would happen if and when I wasn't just a girl by myself.

Well, now I know.

It wasn't malicious treatment by any means.  I'm sure it wasn't even a conscious decision.  I don't need to complain to a manager, and, honestly, I can't really say I'm that shocked.  To a girl who prefers doing it all herself if possible, it's just all the more reason to continue doing it all myself and not to fall into the ease of being a damsel in distress.

So it's not like I'll never bring my boyfriend along to an event ever again.  But at least next time I'll know what to expect.  (Or, as the case may be, what not to expect.)

If these are the consequences of not being single, well... I guess I can handle it if I have to.

1 comment:

  1. Offering to help a woman who brings along her own man is tantamount to kicking said man in the balls, and, thereby considered to be bad form. Unless he requests assistance, or you are trying to steal his girl. It's a testosterone thing.

    ReplyDelete