Since I got my first job at seventeen, I’ve found that at every job I’ve had, I’ve been treated in some way or another as a little girl.
I don’t know why: I’m always prompt, always work my ass off, have excellent customer service, and do my job with a smile. I’ve seen handfuls of coworkers, clearly the poster-children of the people who don’t deserve to be unemployed due to their disgusting work ethic, but I’m not one of them.
So why would I be treated like a little girl? I don’t know. It’s not like I show up to work wearing pigtails, white ruffled socks and a diaper. I don’t play with Barbies on my break (though that would be really nifty, methinks). I don’t interject in conversations with, “oh my gosh, did you see the yesterday morning’s episode of Scooby Doo? It was so scawy! It was the ferris-wheel operator after all!!” And I certainly don’t turn down late night shifts due to an 8pm bedtime… oh wait, I do.
Okay, it’s 9 PM. But I also really suck at nighttime driving and avoid it at all costs. Headlights? Don’t you mean “flying at an undetermined-distance-away fireflies”? ‘Cause they all look like they’re far away until I cut someone off and nearly vehicularly-slaughter a family van full of innocent children. No thanks, I’ll take the morning shifts and spare people their lives.
(Have you ever told an employer you can’t work nights? That’s like telling them you also cannot do your job without someone holding your hand, wiping your butt and singing you the Spice Girls CD collection. Like, jeez, I can’t work past 8. WTF. My entire day is open. Get over it. And work on your rendition of Wannabe, please & thank you).
Anyway, this “little girl” feeling has happened far too often and quite frankly, I’m sick of it. I’m an adult now. I can drive a car, drink and purchase alcohol, and legally get a lap-dance which obviously makes me a responsible adult citizen of America. Unless we’re going by the “adults=when you can rent a car at 25” rule, then y’all need to recognize I’m an adult like you.
Which ironically means I have adult feelings and thoughts like you. I stopped thinking about Barbies ten years ago and now have to think about hot button issues like the death penalty and women’s rights and the new President and crap like that, just like you.
Case in point: at one of my more recent jobs, I worked at an upscale retailer of goods (we’re being as vague as possible here) who employed mostly middle-aged or older folk who loved to prove that age gap to me by talking down to me like I was a child.
They’d say things reeaaaalllly s l o w like I was some kind of moron who couldn’t comprehend black from white and obviously didn’t ace the interview enough to get the job or anything.
“Can y o u grab. me. the s c i s s o r s, plllleeeeassseee?”
“That’s an e g g timer. It times e g g s.”
“You’re going to be a greeeeeeter today. Tell people h e l l o and s m i l e.”
Yeah, I f*ing understand you. I wasn’t born two seconds ago but thank you for publicly shaming me by making it obvious you have zero faith in my work ethic and intelligence.
And what I really hate is when they’d point out the way I would do certain things that wouldn’t affect business or the company standard or anything at all. Like how I’d cut something or write something, despite it being perfectly cut or legible.
“Here, let me show you how to cut a piece of paper. Hold the scissors like this, then cut like this. See? They open! They open like a door! Isn’t that cute? Now, do you think you can handle these scissors, baby Hayley? They’re vewy sharp! I can grab you a padded baby pair if you like.”
Only if I can poke my eye out with it.
So since I’m really freaking sick of being treated like a baby on the job, I’ve come up with a brilliant plan that will set these people straight. You wanna play the age game? Let’s play.
“Oh, dear. Can you lift that receipt? It looks heavy and we all know by this age arthritis should be setting in. I can practically hear your knuckles screaming in pain at the weight of that piece of paper! Let me help you.”
“I made some cupcakes, but man, that fluffy cake may be a bit too much for you. If you’d like, I can help alleviate some of the trouble by pre-chewing it for you. My spit will help break down those tough fibers.”
“Remember the other day when you gave me a dull pencil to write with because you must have worried that my twenty-one-year old self would be a pen-wielding danger to society if I got ahold of a Bic? Well, I was in Walmart today and they had a special on eye glasses for old people, so I got you some so you could clearly see I am a woman, not a girl. If you’d like, I’ll show you I can wipe my own bottom and have outgrown diapers, too. But! I know you wear them, so I bought you some Depends. They’re blue, supposedly for men, but since you clearly can’t tell my age, I’m going to pretend I can’t tell your gender, either. Age, gender… who’s counting?”
See what I mean? Doesn’t look so nice when you’re pushing 50 and people are treating you like you’re 96. As far as I’m concerned, age is just a number–well, unless you’re one of those creepy dudes who hang out around elementary schools, then it’s a crime–but seriously, if my work ethic is strong, I’m a valuable employee and I obviously got the job for reasons other than bribery, then I think it’s pretty clear I can handle this. If I need your help, I’ll ask for it. Otherwise, pocket your safety scissors and passive-aggressive ways of putting me down and let’s work, mmkay? Believe it or not, I don’t get $8 an hour to be babysat.
Truce-time. I made cupcakes baked inside ice cream cones. They’re Ice Cream Cone Cupcakes. Cupcakes and ice cream are enjoyed by both adults and children. And if these look too kiddish to you and you’re not okay with that, then I want to be kiddish, too. And I want your life to vastly improve since it sounds horrendously boring.
1 box cake mix (I chose chocolate), plus ingredients on back of box
24 cake cones
Vanilla Buttercream (recipe & ingredients follow)
Hot fudge sundae syrup
Patted-dry maraschino cherries
1. Preheat your oven to 350 degrees F. Put one cake cone in the bottom of each muffin cavity. Set aside.
2. Prepare your cake batter according to package directions. I stirred mini chocolate chips in mine for a fun addition. Portion your batter into each cake cone, about 2/3 full or just toward the middle of the cone. Don’t fill too much higher or it may overflow. Very carefully put the pans into the oven and bake for approx. 15 minutes or until a toothpick inserted in the center of the cake comes out clean. Cool completely.
Easy Vanilla Bean Buttercream *the addition of vanilla bean paste as opposed to vanilla extract lends a richer, ice-cream-like flavor to this frosting, but in a pinch, use vanilla extract
2/3 cup butter, softened
2 tsp vanilla bean paste
About 3-4 Tbsp milk
About 4 cups powdered sugar
1. In the bowl of a stand mixer, beat together the butter and vanilla bean paste until creamy, about 2 mins. Gradually begin adding powdered sugar, about one cup at a time, using a Tbsp of milk every so often to thin out the frosting and make it creamy. Frosting should be light and fluffy and not too soft.
2. Heat the hot fudge sauce for about 10 seconds. You want it to be on the verge of becoming liquidy but not quite there yet (too liquidy and it’ll melt the frosting, but not heated up at all will result in an ugly glob). Spoon a small spoonful of hot fudge sauce onto the tops of your frosted cupcakes. Top with sprinkles and a cherry. Serve immediately.
I hope you have a fabulous weekend!