Imagine
Sam Aurelius Milam III
|
one day at the office) |
"Yeah,"
he said, leaning back in his chair and speaking on the telephone, "women
can do the job, but that don't keep working with ’em from bein’ a pain
in tha ass!"
"What?!?"
from across the partition.
"Oops.
Gotta go." he said, hanging up the telephone and glancing up at the top
of the partition, and then at the doorway to his cubicle.
Sure
enough, she came storming in through the doorway.
"What
did you mean by that?!?" she yelled, trying to cross her arms but having
some difficulty, because of her ample boobs.
"Jeez!"
he thought to himself, trying not to stare, "She's gotta be jokin’!"
"Well?"
she demanded, "Why would working with women be a pain in the, what you
said?!?"
"Hell,"
he continued, still thinking to himself, "it's like them explorers that
sailed tha seven seas."
"WELL?!?"
she demanded again, louder this time, planting her fists firmly on her
curvaceous hips, which caused her ample boobs to jiggle.
"Them
explorers." he explained, finally finding his voice.
She
got that expression of baffled superiority on her face, the expression
that women in the workplace reserve for their male colleagues. "What
explorers?"
"They
was just tryin'," he elaborated, "ta git away from their wives!"
"What
does that have to do with anything?!?" she asked in exasperation, waving
her arms, which made her ample boobs jiggle again.
He
kept trying not to stare.
"Well,
not just wives," he improvised, "maybe some of’ ’em was tryin’ ta git away
from their girlfriends or their, uh." He'd started to say coworkers,
but thought better of it.
She
spun on her heel, muttering, "Typical male, can't even answer a simple
question."
As
she strutted out of the cubicle, she would have slammed the door except
that cubicles don't have doors. It left her feeling unfulfilled.
"Well,"
he thought to himself, "at least with the rear view, you're less likely
to get caught starin'."
He
leaned back in his chair, sighed, his eyes glazed over, and he said out
loud, forgetting where he was, "Dammit, we don't wanna work with ’em, just
play with ’em."
"What?!?"
a different voice from across the other partition, "What the hell did you
just say?!?"
"Yeah!!"
The first voice again.
After
that, things got a lot more complicated.
When
did freedom of opinion and freedom of choice become un-American?
Why is it acceptable for one political faction to establish mandatory and
universal policies and procedures, impose them uniformly onto everybody
else, by force, and punish people who don't comply? Such enforced
conformity is a characteristic of a police state, not of a free society.
Freedom
of choice is a better idea. Consider, as an example, that it was
never essential for every workplace to be sexually integrated. The
feminists could easily have opted for a combination of mixed gender workplaces,
male only workplaces, and female only workplaces. Then, a person
could have worked in whatever kind of workplace suited him, or her.
The feminists could have had their jobs without creating a feminist police
state in the process. The present result, making sexually integrated
workplaces both universal and mandatory, deprives not only men, but also
women, of their freedom of choice. Police states work that way.
The prospect of being accused of sexist attitudes or of sexual harassment
also has a chilling effect on a man's freedom of opinion, another characteristic
of a police state.
I
was employed in the corporate establishment, part-time or full-time, as
a co-op student or as a full-time employee, from about 1968 until about
1987. During that period of time, the proportion of women in the
workplace gradually increased. We, the men who worked there, gradually
found ourselves answering not just to management but also, potentially,
to every woman in the entire establishment. That is, in addition
to assignments and instructions from the boss, we were likely to be subjected
to control by nagging, just like at home, but with one big difference.
Any woman in the entire workplace might, with impunity, act like a wife,
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