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Diet Coke Break

I have never been so reminded of the fact that I work in a hen-house (i.e., publishing) as I have this week. For god's sake, we have 80+ people in our office, and 95% of them are women. We had a handyman in this week to rearrange some of the offices. And he is truly, ungodly hawt--ripped, tatooes, good with his hands--what's not to love? But seriously, we have turned into a pack of ravening wolves as far as he's concerned, and I suddenly realized that I work with A LOT of Women.

If any woman had come into a nearly-all-male-workplace, she could not have been subjected to more objectifying scrutiny. This handyman has spent enormous amounts of time half-disappeared into the ceiling on a ladder, leaving his—truly delectable—arse in view, and we have all enjoyed it, and commented on it nearly unceasingly. He has started an unending flow of dirty innuendoes: "He's carrying a really big Piece of Wood," "Wow, he's really good with that nailgun, I wish he'd nail me," etc.

Truth: As a 90's-era feminist, I'm a little uncomfortable objectifying anyone. And at the same time, as a Daughter of 70's Feminism, I am LOVING getting my own back by objectifying a totally hAWT manboy.

What I can say for certain as a feminist is this: That even though the glass ceiling is still there, even though we still don't make as much as our male counterparts, one thing has truly equalized. And it will continue to equalize, as more and more industries are infiltrated, as more and more industries become woman-dominated.

Ladies, we are now, without danger to our reputations, in a position To Whistle at Hotties.

Amen.

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