I’m not a feminist. I’m an equalist.

Well hello there, awesome readers!

Something happened that made me stop and ask a question. The question went something like this:

WHAT MILLENNIUM ARE WE IN?

Here’s what happened.

Oh wait!

Before we get into the details, I need to add a few disclaimers. You know, to cover my ass.

The following incident may have happened recently and it may have happened far, far in the past; like where Shrek lives (far, far away) except in time.

For the sake of clarity, the following is written in the pre-tense of “recently”.

Now here’s what happened.

I was sitting at my desk, working, when the doorbell rang. You’re probably thinking that I was working from home. My apologies. That’s misleading. The truth is I was at the office at the time. A busy office with a reception area that isn’t always supervised, the purpose of the doorbell is to ensure safety, while letting us (my colleagues and I) know when an “outsider” arrives. This could be anyone from a candidate coming in for an interview, a client coming in for a meeting, or someone delivering a package.

How it works is there’s an unspoken system or understanding within the office. When the doorbell rings, someone – anyone – responds. This could be someone that may just happen to be walking by, someone on their way to the kitchen for a coffee refill, or someone that needs a mental break.

So there we have it: the distinction between anyone and someone.

On the day in question, the doorbell rang twice. Now you may think that we – my colleagues and I – were deliberately ignoring the doorbell but the truth is that this is actually normal. Not that the doorbell gets ignored on a regular basis but sometimes people are in meetings. Sometimes people are focused and working in their bubble.

The latter was the case on this particular day. So naturally, after the second ring five people jumped from their seats to answer the door. I was one of those people. But since my desk is one of the farthest from the reception area, I was the last to arrive. This is what I observed upon my arrival:

A delivery person with a package.

One of my colleagues signing for said package.

Three other colleagues that had already observed precisely what I was observing were turning around to walk back to their desks since clearly all was under control. Just as I, too, was about to turn and walk back to my desk, one of the three other people that had arrived before me stopped in his tracks to tell me that I needed to go help because there was a delivery.

To put emphasis on the context of the situation, the colleague that said my assistance was required was of the male gender, as was the person signing for the delivery.

I’m not Sherlock Holmes but clearly, this was a case of gender chauvinism.

Clue #1

The colleague that said I needed to “go help” knew who the package was for. This tells me that while he may not have been the first to reach the door, he probably came in at a close second and knew what all the doorbell ringing was about.

In his defense, everyone knows that you only need one person to accept a package. (Or so I thought.)

Clue #2

I was the last to arrive and the only female yet STILL, I was the one that “needed to go help”.

In my defense …

Do I REALLY need to defend myself here? No. I do not.

My response to said gender chauvinistic ridiculousness?

“I’m pretty sure he can handle it and if you don’t have confidence in him, maybe you should have stayed to help.”

And then I whipped around and walked back to my desk. Except that by the time I reached my desk I had pulled a muscle in both my eye balls from all the eye rolling. I may be female but guess what? I can actually call BS on situations like this, roll my eyes, AND walk – all at the same time!

Sometimes I think I’m just blessed.

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