Terrifying journey into the working man’s land…

Here I sit in my cold little trailer listening to the sounds of cranes, bobcats, jackhammers and drills. The air is filled with dust from the demolition project that is currently proceeding around me. It is my last official day – the asbestos is gone. I feel a mix of glee and sadness that I am leaving this place. For 6 of the past 9 weeks, I have been the only girl working with about 180 men. That's right you math whizzes, 1:180. For those of you who know me well, you would probably think that I have nothing but enjoyed being surrounded by a sea of men but to be honest, I have never fantasized about being in a sea of men. I think if I ever had, it would have been nothing like the male waterway that now engulfs me. In many ways I have not enjoyed working in this testosterone ridden environment. Shall I count the ways**?

1. The language, frankly, astounds me. In rare instances where I have found myself watching a movie where every second word is a curse word (I generally try to avoid those movies), I always think “surely real people do not speak this way”. I have been around some pretty hardcore people that have quite colourful language but I really didn’t believe that large groups of people actually swore like this. My ex-boyfriend, who used to be in the army, assured me there were groups of people that did but I guess I had to hear it to believe it. Seriously, every second word is the “f” word. I even heard one guy say it three times in a row. IN A ROW!!!

2. They tell all kinds of dirty jokes. I would have to say I probably get about 10% of them. The rest of the time I am trying to decide whether to pretend I get it or not. I would be okay with just admitting I don’t and letting them laugh at me, but then they tease me about it until basically I catch on. And then I have to think about it because now I get it. If I pretend I don’t get it, and am convincing enough with my stellar acting skills (digression – we should totally bring the word stellar back. Who’s with me?) then they finish laughing at the joke and leave me alone. In the end they probably think that I understand 80% of what they say.

3. The loss of blissful ignorance that guys aren’t as sick as magazines like Maxxam make them out to be. Sadly, many guys are. At least they act like it when they are with their “bros”.

Oh, interlude. Lunch break has just begun. My office is at the end of the boiler makers trailer. I can hear them arriving. I am getting a lovely serenade of “hey hey we’re the monkeys” and the usual “F” this and “F” that. The jokes and gambling are about to begin. Did I mention they gamble like crazy? Anyway, back to number 3.

3. continued. Yes, loss of blissful ignorance. I guess I hoped that the majority of guys were not the cheating, no respect for women kind. But I have heard so many “right on’s” after someone explaining how they were sleeping around behind their “old lady’s back” and “she has NO IDEA!!!”. And I still would like to be optimistic and give guys the benefit of the doubt that it is just a few losers out here ruining it for the rest of them, but it really hurts to hear it. It tears at my heart actually.

4. The complete lack of respect some of them have for women. The magazines that lie around, the comments that are made. Again, sad.

5. Getting treated like one of the guys. I am not a guy. I do not want to be a guy. I never said I did. Please stop spitting and swearing in front of me.

6. The drama! This is just like high school or something. There are rumors, back stabbing, whining, fighting (I was actually in the middle of 2 guys just as they were getting ready to come to blows – yikes!). It’s like a boy version of Melrose Place. Oh yeah, they steal each other’s sleeping partners (girlfriends would imply much too much commitment) all the time too. I realize some of the owness for this falls on the girls they are sleeping with.

7. How can I say this without sounding retarded and vain. Okay, you will likely never ever in your whole life hear me say this again but I don’t really feel comfortable with some of these guys complimenting me on my looks. It’s not that I don’t like a compliment because I do. It’s just that I have to wear a hard hat everyday. And it’s way too big for my head and so I look ridiculous. And my clothes are covered in dirt and other materials (which could give away where I am working and would violate my confidentiality agreements that I have to uphold). And I wear the smallest pair of safety glasses I can find but come one. Safety glasses – never sexy. And, I walk around with these leather work gloves that are way too big for my hands. And, it’s freaking cold here so I waddle around because I’m wearing so many layers that it impedes my ability to walk. And, I’m the only girl among 180 guys. They’d be impressed with pretty much anything not full of testosterone. So what I’m trying to say is that I’m not taking the compliments too personally. And sometimes it’s a little creepy. Most of the guys I am pretty sure are just harmless flirts (which is perfect because so am I!) but some of them go a little too far and I start to feel uneasy.

Anyway, you get the picture. I have always been one to realize that stereotypes are just that. They are not always true. There are ALWAYS exceptions. Which is why I will also tell you the things I really like and even love about working here.

1. I love the harmless flirting! Most of the time I am working alone in the field and my favourite thing about this job is that I have constantly been surrounded by people. Especially being the only girl. Pretty much anyone will talk to me.

2. I do love the constant compliments. It doesn’t even really matter if they mean it – it makes me feel happy and pretty. Until I see my ridiculous safety glasses and helmet in the mirror again. But I can just go walk around and find my one ironworker friend who always calls me Sunshine. It’s my favourite nickname out here.

3. I love that I can get away with things that I know a male counterpart NEVER could. For example, if I don’t know what a big mechanical vessel is (because really, to me a silo, boiler, and various forms of tanks all kind of look the same), I can ask and someone will very gallantly explain everything I could ever want to know about that vessel. I won’t understand most of it, but I’ll at least get the name. I doubt they would be so nice to a guy.

4. I just realized I was lonely so I got up and had dinner with several boiler-makers. The fact that I have that option and the confidence to is pretty cool.

5. The fact that I survived 6 weeks with 180 guys and I think most of them totally didn’t mind and perhaps enjoyed having me around. Thinking back to my first day I was terrified. I walked into the trailer of the particular group of 20 men that I would be spending the majority of my time with and it was as if they all swiveled as one. Which is very impressive considering the unlikeliness that they have taken any kind of synchronization training. I bet it’s actually really hard to do. Anyway, I was really intimidated, but I have taken the time to get to know enough of them that I realized their bark is worse than their bite. And while their attitudes toward women in general and their language is atrocious, for the most part they have been very respectful of me (to my face at least).

6. Getting teased all the time that I have 180 boyfriends. I wouldn’t actually want 180 – 1 would be fine, but it’s fun to get teased about it.

7. Okay, I couldn’t decide if this was a pro or a con but I decided to laugh at myself and make the best of it. With a simple phrase I can make all the foremans and upper management men burst into laughter and ensure that they will tease me for the rest of the week. The head hancho guy was telling everyone at the meeting on Tuesday that I was leaving. He said “Shannon’s last day will be on Friday. So Shannon, I guess you can kiss us all goodbye.” Now I could have said some nice professional comment about how I’ve enjoyed working with them bla bla bla. But instead, the thing that first that pops out of my mouth was “Well, you can tell everyone to line up.” I’ve been blushing ever since. They all keep asking me where the line is going to be, or if they can take a number. Like I said, blushing ever since. Part of me wishes I hadn’t said it, but it was pretty awesome to get that big of a laugh. One of the guys actually started crying.

8. Amidst the disgust and reinforcing of stereotypes, there is always an exception to the rule. And when you find one, it is the more special because of the surrounding circumstances. I’m not going to go into details, but just when I thought I was quite excited to be going home, something happened to make me a little sad. And I think it would always be nice to be a little sad to leave any place because it would mean leaving behind some new friends and good times.

So blue collared working men who fit all the stereotypical stereotypes, keep on keeping on.


** I hope I have not irked any of my dear male friends with my comments. I have great respect and admiration for many men – especially the hard working labourer. So please do not be offended by my findings as they technically relate strictly to one informal study. I have no control group and a data set of only one study pool, thus this is not even remotely scientifically or statistically sound. Just my thoughts from this particular expedition.