If you haven’t read Aussa Loren’s blog Hacker Ninja Hooker Spy, do yourself a favor and check it out. She’s got fascinating stories and her travel posts take me to exotic places in such a good way that I feel like I was there. At least a little bit.
I was honored that she asked me if I’d write a guest post. I considered writing the story about the time my boss told me I wasn’t allowed to say fuck, but then decided on a different topic.
It’s time now, however, to tell the story of when I was told to not say fuck anymore.
My boss (he has since moved on from this job) was huge. He’s 6’7″ and not really on the slender side. I don’t want to call him out by name, so we will call him McGiant.
If you’ve read my blog before, you’ll know that I don’t censor myself when I write. I write how I talk.
Keep in mind, I work for a construction company in the IT department. Construction people curse a lot. IT people curse even more. We’re good at cursing.
This happened the day of our Christmas lunch a few years ago. I don’t like the Christmas lunch. I like going home for lunch. I like the people who live in my house and I prefer to spend my time with them.
I was talking with McGiant about something that I’m sure was terribly important, so he wasn’t paying attention, other than to the curse words intertwined in my speech.
McGiant: Don’t say that anymore.
Me: Don’t say what anymore?
McGiant: Don’t say fuck anymore.
Me: Are you serious?
McGiant: Yes. It sounds really bad.
Me: So, this is a new department thing? We’re not allowed to curse?
McGiant: Well, no.
Me: But you say fuck. All the other guys in our group says fuck. Are they not allowed to say fuck either?
McGiant: I just think is sounds crass coming from you.
Me: The only difference between me and the other people is I’m female. Please tell me that this isn’t because I’m female.
McGiant: I will admit that I’m a little sexist.
Me: I am so fucking not okay with this. There is nothing okay with this.
I left his office and told everyone in the department, one by one, that I was no longer allowed to say fuck. I wasn’t keeping this shit quiet. Fuck that.
One of the business analysts in my group is a little older and very nice. He rarely curses. We will call him Danny, because he looks like my uncle Danny.
Since I wasn’t allowed to say fuck anymore, Danny volunteered to say ‘fuck’ for me . I took him up on his generous offer.
We all gathered in the big conference room for our department Christmas lunch and the fun began. In my group, we like to hurl insults at each other. It can get pretty vicious and it’s only fun if you can curse.
Danny was very animated and demonstrative when he spoke on my behalf. Way more so than I usually am, but it still worked.
These are the phrases that Danny used on my behalf.
Go fuck yourself.
Fuck off and die.
There might have been more. I don’t remember for sure because it was a few years ago and I am old.
Each time Danny hurled a ‘fuck’ sentence at someone on my behalf, McGiant slumped a little further down in his chair. I didn’t think it was possible for a human to actually shrink until I saw it with my own eyes.
It came to a head when the tech support guy sitting right next to me heard me say ‘bullshit’.
He yelled down the table, “Hey, McGiant? Michelle just said bullshit. Is she allowed to say bullshit or is it just fuck that she can’t say anymore”?
McGiant slumped all the way down in his chair and muttered “I don’t care what she says. She can say whatever she wants”.
That department Christmas lunch was the best fucking Christmas lunch ever.