Eligible?

When women find out I’m an electrician, more often than not the first question they ask is either: “Did you do it to meet men?” or “Do you meet a lot of eligible men?” The answer to both questions is, “No.” I did it because I needed a change from sitting behind a desk all day, because I’ve always enjoyed working with my hands and because I get a kick out of doing unusual things.

I like men. In my life I have just as many close male friends as female ones. I’m very comfortable talking to and working with men. I also like men in “that” way, but to make a career choice based on the potential to meet men? Puh-leez. I suppose there are women out there who might make that choice, but I don’t think they’d last very long. Let me tell you, it ain’t a fashion show.

Most days are spent underneath the ugliest of hard hats and behind the nerdiest of safety glasses. Any make-up such a princess might choose to wear would be quickly sweated off or buried under layers of dust and dirt. Since most functional work pants are made for guys, they aren’t the most flattering to the female form. Footwear consists of clonky work boots day in and day out…enough to send any shoe diva screaming. Jewelry is a hazard when working with electricity. Hairstyles, if long, are boring ponytails or braids. Any shirt soon has holes from snagging on the sharp edges that abound on construction sites. Also, these sharp edges cause many gashes and scratches on exposed arms, leaving scars that make a girl look like she’s gone ten rounds with the pet cat from hell.

Of course, this assumes that the woman is actually trying to do the work and will get dirty, sweaty and bloody. I recently witnessed a chicklet on the jobsite who was happy to be there hanging out with the boys but who barely did any work. She was (supposedly) a framer, but spent more time giggling and standing around than she did working. She was quite attractive and the guys on my crew definitely noticed THAT right off the bat, but within a week or two they were referring to her as “The Beauty Queen” and commenting almost exclusively on how little she actually did during a day. Pretty soon, the boys were all atwitter with the gossip that she got fired. No one was really surprised.

Even if a gal is doing the job with legitimate motivations, there’s still the question about eligible men. Despite being single and surrounded by men on a daily basis, I’ve been too focused on doing a good job and learning the trade to pay more than cursory attention. It’s not that I haven’t noticed physically attractive men – c’mon, I’m a red-blooded female surrounded by hot, fit construction guys – it’s just that the opportunities to find out if there’s anything of substance beneath the muscles are few and far between. Any preliminary chat-while-you-work conversations usually lead to the discovery that the guy a) is married or in a relationship, b) is way too young or, c) has no substance. I guess if I was just interested in sex any available b) or c) would do, but those days are over and now I kind of prefer someone who can stimulate me mentally as well as physically. It’s not too much to ask that the guy has actually read a book in the past year, is it?

And then there’s me. I don’t think I’m exactly the type that appeals to construction workers, either. From sitting in on lunch conversations about their spouses and girlfriends, it seems that the overwhelming majority of these guys are quite traditional and take a bizarre kind of pride in having a woman who relies on them to do “manly” things. Oh, sure, they “complain” that their women don’t know how to check the air pressure in tires, don’t earn very much, if any, money yet spend lots on shoes, handbags and clothes to add to their already overflowing closets, and can’t undo a pickle jar without help (okay, that’s a wee exaggeration) but they all seem pretty happy with these women so there must be some kind of appeal. When I think about what I’m like in relation to those kinds of women, I often have a song from Annie, Get Your Gun running through my head:

I’m quick on the trigger
With targets not much bigger
Than a pinpoint, I’m number one
But my score with a feller
Is lower than a cellar
Oh, you can’t get a man with a gun

…or in my case, a Hilti gun.

Since my life is very much taken up by working long hours and being too tired to do much after work, the opportunities to meet men in other settings are pretty limited. So, for now I guess I can enjoy the eye candy that flits in and out of my field of vision during the day and hope than someday a single, interesting, educated and somewhat sophisticated guy who appreciates a self-sufficient woman will walk into my life. It could happen, right? Or, it might be easier to win the 6-49.

I think I’d better buy a ticket.

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Today’s Treasure: Frozen hamburger patties. Seriously. I came home tired and hungry and didn’t feel like cooking. Tossed ‘em on the BBQ right out of the freezer and, voila, instant supper. It’s the small things that make me happy sometimes.

Playing With Boys

After 2 ½ years of working with all guys all the time, this week I officially became “one of the boys”.

In truth, I’ve mostly felt like one of the guys for a long time now. They feel comfortable enough around me to engage in general “guy” behaviour and know I’m not going to react like a prissy schoolmarm. Belching, farting, swearing…I’ve become immune to all of it. Talking about women in the many and various ways they do…I don’t even bat an eyelash anymore. Making silly double-entendre jokes about sex…Honey, my mind’s right there in the gutter with ‘em. But one thing was missing to make me feel completely accepted. The practical joke.

Over the years I’ve watched them play tons of pranks on each other. I’ve seen “The Great Tool Hunt” where one guy tied a tool to an overhead pipe in our lunch area and waited days to see how long it took the owner to find it. Meanwhile the rest of the crew knew it was there and snickered to each other every time the owner mentioned the loss.

Then, there was “The Great Sandwich Caper”. “Bob” wanted “Chuck” to get him a sandwich since Chuck was making the trip to the restaurant anyway. Bob didn’t give quite enough money to cover the cost, so Chuck took a bite out of the sandwich, then wrapped it back up and delivered it to Bob...who shrugged and ate it anyway.

And, although I didn’t see this one, “Chalked Hardhat” is a legendary tale of the time one guy put blue chalk dust in another guy’s upturned hardhat. When “Hatless” put his hat back on, he was covered with chalk. He went home to have a shower, but the addition of water to the dust turned it into a blue dye. He came back to work looking like a Smurf.

I’ve been amused by these tales and pranks, but I’ve always felt that there was a bit of separation in their minds between what they would do to each other and what they would do to me. Like they were scared of doing something that might make me cry…or they were just being nicer to me than to each other. Although no one likes to be the brunt of jokes, it builds camaraderie in a strange way and makes work fun. In this respect, I felt kinda like the kid who always gets picked last.

This week all that changed.

I was doing several installations and I thought my foreman told me to install them horizontally. I remember thinking that it was weird because generally this item is installed vertically, however on the odd occasion it goes in horizontally. I put in a couple horizontally, then my foreman called me on it and told me to put them in vertically. I was convinced that he had said horizontally, so I grumbled about it then changed it.

The next day, one of them was still horizontal and I was sure I had changed it. He called me on it and complained that I didn’t know the difference between horizontal and vertical – which I obviously do – and I was incensed because I only put it horizontally in the first place because I thought he told me to do it. I didn’t have the proper screwdriver on me at the time, so I borrowed one from a co-worker who was standing right there and changed it. I thought perhaps I had just missed that one the day before.

A couple of hours later, he called me again and complained that I hadn’t fixed the installation because it was still in the horizontal position. Since he is also known for teasing people and jerking their chains, I thought he was just trying to tease me about not knowing the difference between horizontal and vertical, but he wasn’t and was quite ticked off. I told him that I changed it that morning as soon as he had pointed it out and I called on my co-worker to back me up, which he did. So, then we knew someone was playing a joke on us.

Later that afternoon, another one of my co-workers ‘fessed up that he had switched the position…TWICE. Jerk! We laughed hysterically, especially when he was describing how cranky I got when I had to change it. I think he wasn’t sure how I would take it when he told me, but was willing to give it a shot for the fun of it. Bless his cotton socks! So, although I was cranky while I was changing the freakin’ installations three times, the humor of it afterwards more than made up for it.

I’m sure he has no idea what a gift this first prank was to me. I now officially feel like one of the boys. I will always be grateful that he had the guts to try it.

Still…I owe him one.

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Today’s Treasure: Went to visit Mike, Su and 4-month-old David. Baby giggles and snuggles are the absolute best way to appreciate and live in the moment. Also, amazing lightning show tonight. I love it when the night is lit up like the day for a fleeting second and everything is bathed in that electric silver light. Another great reminder about living in the moment.