Monday, April 14, 2008

My Bush


The above doll is a joke Christmas gift that my sister bought for me at a drugstore - a singing, dancing George W. Just what I've always wanted!

Except not. Like some male members, I lean to the left. My sister and I were raised by Reagan Republicans; she turned out conservative, while I wound up liberal (or 'bleeding heart liberal', as Sister Girl has sometimes called me). She knew I'd get a kick out of her drugstore find. When you squeeze a certain spot on W's arm, he spouts things like "I'm the decider!", and "I think it's a budget! It's gotta lotta numbers in it!". My favorite is "The future will be better tomorrow!". I'm so proud that our country has been trashed by this genius for 8 years.

I think I've mentioned before that I work in marketing, with a very liberal group that is mostly male. We're a pretty funny, mostly politically incorrect crew. When I first brought George into work, everybody was fascinated, and for a while I had to hear "I'm the decider!" more often than I would have liked as coworkers squeezed the doll's arm out of curiosity. George cracked everybody up, mostly because the guy who did the voice for the doll sounds just like the real thing.

One afternoon a few weeks back, we were having a group meeting around my desk. George was present, since he occupies the spot next to my computer.

Without thinking, one of my coworkers said, "Ginger, your little Bush is so creepy."

Cue hysterical laughter from everybody, myself included. No way does anybody get away with a statement like that in my department.

Male coworker 1: Dude! I don't think you can say that to her.

Male coworker 2: You have to take her out to dinner first.

Male coworker 3: Yeah, so she can blog about it!

Things calmed down after a few minutes, and turned our attention back to the presentation critique. We had to make a change to a logo; specifically, we had to scale down an element that the client referred to as a 'plumb-bob'.

Male coworker 4: (leaning over) What the hell is a plumb bob?

Ginger: (leaning in, conspiratorially): It's what I use to clean my Bush.

Zing! Even for me, that was a good one.

Male coworker 4 and I both pretty much lost our shit. He had the giggles so bad that he had to get up and leave the room for a minute.

Sadly, nobody touches my Bush anymore.

Labels: ,

2 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

"....Male coworker 1: Dude! I don't think you can say that to her.

Male coworker 2: You have to take her out to dinner first....."


Sexual Harassment is such a vague concept, don't you think? If someone loves/likes you and you love/like them, it's nothing to reach out and stroke their hair, to tell them that they look lovely today or engage in flirtatious exchanges of puerile sexual innuendo. You can keep their picture on your desk, in your locker. You can keep their eyelashes in a locket around your neck. These are little bits of love, but only if you sit down and say "Well, just for the record, we are in love, okay?"

They're beautiful gestures of affection, if you've shaken hands on the whole love thing. They're proof. Without that oral contract though every lock of hair loses its magic, and proof becomes "evidence". It's a sick distinction, as though love/like only becomes valid when someone else agrees that you can love/like them.

In Cognito

9:04 AM  
Blogger Ginger said...

No, sexual harassment is not a vague concept. Even you can't be that dense.

Last warning, InC: if you can't stop this bullshit grandstanding on my blog, I'm going to start deleting your comments.

2:09 PM  

Post a Comment

Links to this post:

Create a Link

<< Home

dating

I'm a C-list Blogebrity
A Member of Bust's Girl Wide Web

< ? Redhead Blogs # >

Personal Blogs
Personal Blogs /body>