Roles

I think I have mentioned before that I am not a girly girl. I am an indifferent housekeeper, and I am only a good cook because I like eating. I tried sewing, once, when I was fourteen. After stitching my hand to the shirt I was trying to make, I gave up and took woodworking in school.

I don't think I've ever really even had a girly job. I was a waitress, once, for about a week. A customer decided to grab my ass. That customer wore his very hot coffee home. I got fired, but it was worth it.

My current job includes un-girly aspects such as playing with guns and yelling at people. I don't really like it, but it pays better than waitressing.

My car needed an oil change last week. I had the filter and a case of oil sitting in the trunk, but I was being lazy about it, mostly because it is starting to get cold out, and the weather had been windy and rainy. It got to be pretty critical, though, as I was well over the recommended 5,000 kilometers, and T and I were planning a trip home, which adds another 1,000.

I spoke to a girlfriend at work and arranged to use her garage on Thursday. I mentioned it to T when I got home from work. T cocked his head.

"Shouldn't I be doing that?"

"Do you know how?" I replied

I guess that wasn't the most political thing to say, but T just isn't that type. I'm sure he could do mechanics, but he doesn't seem to want to. It turned out that he does know how to change oil, though he doesn't enjoy it. I told him it was fine, I was happy to do it myself.

"But what will your friends think of me?"

"I'm sure they will think you are a progressive, open-minded gentleman."

Supper was waiting for me when I got home.