Most of the time, that is.
I went to lunch with some of the boys yesterday. It was a really fun experience. I think we all felt like we were magically transported back to our teenage years, at least for the time we were out of the office – heh.
All four of us are the same age, with one being a year older. We were in the same crowds in high school, though in different high schools. Two of the boys have known each other forever, but there wasn’t a lot of in-jokes between them. We all, for that hour, could have been 16/17 years old, but with all the experiences of our 30(something) existence.
I did one thing that’s out of character for me, though. I decided to “play the gender card”. I’m very much not the type of person to do that. I don’t like being treated differently for being female, when I mostly spend time with men, but every now and then I can use it to get my way. Like shotgun, or having the doors opened for me. It’s silly, I know, but every now and again, it’s worth playing with. Of course, it does have its drawbacks. Playing the gender card causes more mocking than I usually get. It’s a trade off and one that I chose for the day.
It was later, when I was talking to one of the boys that I remembered why it’s important for me to play the gender card from time to time. I remembered why I started wearing girl shoes and tit-shirts. “It’s been about 10 years… no, 7… no 5 since I’ve heard that horrible statement, ‘OMG, Fyre, I forgot you were a girl!’ and I don’t ever want to go back to getting that statement.” It used to happen all the time. The boys I’d spend time with would feel so comfortable with me in the room that they wouldn’t put up the wall that girls are not supposed to be able to get through. They’d talk about their penises or bitch about their girlfriends or openly ogle someone walking by, inevitably leading them to exclaim that they “forgot” I wasn’t one of the guys… even though I always have been.
I have a total of four close female friends. Ones that I talk to on a regular basis. Ones that I love like sisters. Of those four, ONE lives in the area, but she is one of the busiest women I know… so I don’t see her all that often. You know, I like that. I like the way that works out. I like that they’re only a phone call away when I need them or when they need me, but I also like that they’re usually a train or plane ride away too, because women make me ~*CrAzY*~
I don’t generally play the gender card. Usually, when I do, I have a damn good reason, like a skirt too short to reasonably be expected to climb out of the backseat of a car or heels that slow me down or needing to woo some information or favor out of someone that will benefit the group. What they get in return for that is free reign of the contents of my purse, some insight (as needed) to women as a whole, and complete access (and subjection *wink*) to the smiling pretty and batting of eyelashes.
I enjoy being a girl. I enjoy being *the* girl, when I can. It’s great fun to flirt with impunity, with ALL OF THEM. It’s a blast to be the center of attention for a comment that one man simply cannot make to another. It makes me happy to know that I can surround myself with people who can help to keep me safe, even though I do a pretty damn good job of doing it myself, an extra measure never hurts.
I wonder how many women, women who actually enjoy the company of other women, know what they’re missing. Two of my girls are guys girls, like me. They know what it’s about. The other two can’t seem to understand.
I enjoy being a girl. Mainly because I’m usually the only one, and there are things that girls can do that boys just can’t. I like to do those things. I like to help. And, let’s be honest here, I like the rewards that sometimes come from being the only one who carries a purse, or understands how to lean over, show a little, bat my eyelashes, smile pretty and do it all for the benefit of the group.
~FG };^>