I had a job interview a few months ago, shortly after moving.

Within ten-minutes of the interview I was thinking to myself "I'd better apply for more jobs after this" and also "This is the sort of shit I'd post about if I still ran my blog."

It was an interview with a woman who ran her own financial investment practice. She was the boss and she had seven employees. I was applying for a job as a basic accounts clerk, the usual easy, stress-free shit us bachelors can afford to do, on account of us - by definition of being bachelors - not being legally bound to provide for a financial black-hole wife, just ourselves.

At first, this was a fifty-something career gal I started to feel some respect for. She said she'd been in the investment business since leaving University and had started her own practice twenty-years ago. Her offices were nice and fancy, her desk big and oaky, she owned and ran the business on her own - no rich hubby in the background funding it; I don't think she was married anyway, or at least she had no wedding ring on - and the receptionist was constantly answering client's telephone calls whilst I waited for my interview. She seemed to know her stuff and evidently made a lot of money for herself and her clients.

Any respect I had for her, and any hopes of getting the job, sank quickly when, shortly into the interview, she inexplicably asked me "Would you have a problem taking orders from a woman?" whilst furrowing her brow so quizically it looked like one of her eyebrows was trying to mate with the other, and both my respect and hopes plunged ever deeper when she asked me that exact same question, entirely at random, a second time just a few minutes later, to which I replied in the negative, just as I'd done the first time around.

My assurances evidently had little impact on her. I had all the qualifications and a good amount of experience required for the humble position, yet I didn't get the job. What a surprise.

What was most pathetic was that this woman clearly thought of herself as - and conducted herself as - some sort of big mean Alpha Female, taking on the might of a male dominated world. Yet here I was, just some guy young enough to be her son, acting all enthusiastic and pleasant, and she's twice asking me - almost fearfully - to confirm whether I'd be okay taking orders from a female boss. Pitifully, despite my assurances to the contrary, she still evidently thought that I was liable to metamorphose into some sort of Patriarchal flesh-ripping feral lunatic beast the first time she asks me to do something.


"No mere female tell me have figures
on her desk by morning! Me mad! Raaagh!!"

I should have guessed I wouldn't get the job. I saw six of her employees whilst I was waiting in reception, and they were all female, and it's a fair bet the seventh was female too (given that I overheard she was on maternity leave.)

I impatiently phoned up to hound the woman to find out if I was getting the job, and in addition to being told (by the receptionist) 'sorry, no', I happened to find out the sex of the successful applicant. Can you guess what sex she was? Actually, you probably can given that I gave it away in the previous sentence.

I really wish she'd have taken a chance and given me that job. It'd have been great to have taught her a lesson by living up to her horrors of the Patriarchal Menace Within (TM). I'd arrive early on my first day, sit at my desk, flick brazenly through a porn mag and then, when Alpha Female Boss arrives, tell her 'Hey love, I'm gaspin' for some tea. Milk no sugar darlin'.' Then I'd slap her arse and shove her towards the office kitchen.

Heheh! Just to be ironic.

And then sacked, no doubt.

Seriously though, I wouldn't have given a shit about her being a woman. I'd do the job I was contracted to do so long as she paid me the salary I was contracted to receive.

Note, incidentally, how a woman can employ solely women, but if a man employs solely men, the Equal Opportunities Commissars would be round with taser-guns.

Oh well, I've got another job since then and everything is cool now, so at least I can look back on it with amusement.

Eternal Bachelor

So sad. They work so hard at keeping up the illusion they wind up shooting themselves in the foot.

Why is it that women can do this sort of shit, ask questions like that, yet a man has to.....

Awww hell, screw it...

TMOTS