Stereotypes and the Stereotypical Nerd Who Shares Them

I do science themed birthday parties for young kids most weekends. Being that my clientele is by far mostly MicroSoft employees I've found they largely divide themselves into three distinct groups. There are the upper-middle class WASPs (since I live in the Pacific Northwest they probably aren't actually WASPs but close enough). Next there are the Indian programmer families and finally the Russian programmers. These are not the only groups I tend to service but these make up the vast majority.

Now, I'm well aware of the danger of stereotyping but we all do it and we all do it with good reason. First, it's how our brain works and so is very hard, if not impossible, to stop. Second, stereotypes usually have a lot of truth behind them. Which is why our species is still around I suppose.

For instance, I'm a white nerd. So, I'd imagine there are many nerd stereotypes that spring into your mind. Most of them are probably true or close to being true. Yes, I do play video games. Yes, I like Dungeons and Dragons. And Yes, I was very excited to see the new Star Wars and am looking forward to every single super hero movie ever.

Though, of course, some of the stereotypes do not ring true. No, I've never been that bad with the ladies and I am happily married to a sexy one as I write this. No, I do not like Mountain Dew. No, I do not LARP.

So with that in mind I've discovered some stereotypes about these three groups that hold true:

Child behavior:
Indian: usually quite good and if not there is usually a very apparent reason for the misbehavior. Parents/any adult in the room have no qualms about straightening said kid out.

Russian: There will be at least one rowdy, crazy kid that no adult will see to. If that kid's parent is at the party they will have a soulless, dead look in their eye from the get go. I pity them.

WASP: Toss up. You never know what you'll get.

This being said all kids regardless of culture usually act the same.

Food and drink:
WASP: Pizza and some organic juice (Honest Kids most likely). Rarely soda.

Russian: Pizza and Capri Suns for the kids. Lots of wine for the adults (no, it's not vodka, you racist!) Vacant dead-eyed parent (usually mom) will drink the most. Interesting side note, since I do young kid birthdays I don't have any bottle openers on hand and have learned how to open wine with a shoe.

Indian: Pizza and mango juice with at least three fully catered side dishes that would each be their own meal in and of themselves.

Small Talk:
WASP: Light, awkward, and boring.

Indian: Almost exclusively about the business. How many birthdays a week? How many after school classes? What's my background?

Russian: Exceedingly firm handshake. No small talk. Ever.

Tip:
WASP: Standard 15-20%

Russian: Could be nothing to an obscene amount. Wine consumption may factor into this.

Indian: Usually not. But will be offered more birthday cake and samosas than one should legally be allowed to eat. Cannot be turned down without slightly offending host.

Extended Family:
Russian: None usually.

WASP: Could go either way. Though, if there is an Aunt they will be late and the mom of the party will look down on them. If there are grandparents they usually will be the ones paying.

Indian: Yes. As many as can fit in the room. Grandparents will be off in the corner with a stern, disapproving look, but will be the ones that surprisingly enjoyed it the most. They will offer the most food and it is hard to turn down because they usually don't speak much English.

Punctuality:
WASP: Usually a little early and leave right on time.

Russian: No discernible pattern.

Indian: Usually show up late and leave late.

Happy Freakin' Birthday part 2

Along with a coworker quitting both his job and his gender in extraordinary fashion I also almost got in a fistfight for the first time since Jr. High. What's scary and troubling to me, other than the stupidity of the circumstances surrounding the almost fight (which I'll delve into in a moment), is that I really, really wanted to get into the fight. I really wanted to hurt this guy. Even writing this my gut is tensing up and I can feel my primitive brain lambasting me for not getting into the fight. There is a significant part of me that regrets not hitting this guy. 

Now, there is also an equally significant part of me that is wondering whether my back could have even handled a row and cheering the fact that I didn't break my glasses that night. The fact that I'm having these thoughts, though very sound and rational, and the fact that this whole incident happened the night before my 34th birthday just make me feel old.

So, here is the story.

My father-in-law gave me the best gift. One night away from my kid. My father-in-law took Qball for the night and let my wife and I have the evening and morning off. This was great. If you ever need a gift for me (and really you should all be thinking about gifts for me) this is at the top of the list. My wife and I decide to do dinner and a movie.

For whatever reason I'm already annoyed by the time we get to the theater. I don't remember exactly why. You can ask my wife because she probably remembers why. It is Saturday around 7 or 8, prime movie time. It is packed with a long line to get a ticket, no surprise there. We're seeing Sisters because that's the only movie we could agree on. 

This theater has the standard box office but also has a couple self service kiosks where you can buy tickets as well. They are around a corner and behind a big support pillar. Both have a line but the kiosk one is usually shorter. Being efficiency prats, I stand in the kiosk line while my wife stands in the standard line. There are two separate kiosks but only one line in the middle of them. This doesn't strike me as odd and seems like a perfectly reasonable thing to do, maybe even the best way to line up for this sort of thing. This way no one gets stuck behind someone being extraordinarily slow.

People tend to forget or not want to bother with the kiosks so by the time I'm next in line there is only one guy behind me. I didn't pay him much mind but he seemed to have no problem figuring out the two kiosks, one line thing, but a woman walks up shortly after and she does have trouble with this concept or chooses not to abide by it. Either way unbeknownst to me this woman happens to be the guy behind me's wife. She is probably about my age give or take a few years.

I see her walk up out of the corner. She stands off the side looks at the kiosks. Looks at me. Then back to kiosks. Then back to me. She is trying to figure out why there are two stations but only one line for them. I see her puzzle it out for a few moments. She apparently decided that there should be two lines so she steps in front of me and directly behind the people buying their tickets. This annoys me as it should anyone else. I debate calling her out for about half a second but saying, "Excuse me. You just cut me."

She looks at me as if I just slapped her. Affronted, she responds, "There are two lines."

I ponder for a second whether she's being an ass or being an idiot. I decide it's the former which makes me even more annoyed. I'm pretty certain she knew there was only one line. Her husband is behind me for god sake! He just about interrupts me as I say, "No there is just one." She turns away trying to ignore me. Her husband says something to the effect of "Hey, she's with me." I got the sense that he was going to apologize and say something like "Hey, babe come stand by me and let this nice, observant man go about his merry way." He doesn't get a chance to say that because she turns back to me and repeats with a who-the-fuck-do-you-think-you-are? look, "There are two lines!"

I'm getting mad now, "No, you cut. There is just one line."

"Who would know that?!" She starts to yell a little.

I'm a little dumbfounded by this statement. I raise my arms up to indicate everyone standing in front of the movie theater, "Everyone but you!" I say loudly.

By this time both kiosks open up. She and her husband go to one and I start heading to the other one. I'm just about to shake my head and dismiss the whole thing. We're both getting tickets at the same time anyway. But she says something else which I don't actually recall. I respond with "You cut. Just admit it and quit being a dick about it." In a bit of raised voice. 

I admit it's not the best or most classy thing to call someone a dick, but in my defense she was being a dick and I tend to call things as I see them. I'm not even sure why I said dick. Maybe I thought bitch was too gender bias.

At this point I'm about to get my wallet out and buy two tickets for Sisters (which is a slightly above average comedy, by the way). I can't buy the tickets though. The husband, who at this point I had thought was the sane one of the relationship or at least the less dickish one, charges me. He's about half a foot shorter than me, but a little younger and probably fitter. Which isn't hard as I'm on the doughy side of fit right now. He bumps chests, tries to push me, and is yelling something about how no one calls his wife a dick and he's going to make me apologize. Meanwhile, his wife is calmly buying tickets and says "Don't bother with him. He's psycho." I apply this to her husband but I'm pretty sure it was directed at me.

It's at this time that I'm flooded with a near overwhelming desire to fight this guy. Not just fight him but really hurt. Like curb stomp hurt him. It's also at this time that I think about how I haven't been in a real fight since Jr. High and even then it wasn't a full on fight. I also think about how I've been having back problems and I don't want to pay for new glasses. I then think about how much of a wuss that makes me sound which makes me want to hurt this guy even more.

Instead, I just get back in his face and say, "Calm the fuck down." It was the first thing to come to mind. He tries to push me again and says I'm the one not being calm (which is, for the record, demonstrably false) and demands I apologize. I say calm down again, hopefully in something of a menacing way. This repeats a few more times and then it just ends. His wife got the tickets. The guy calms down a little and walks away. He might have said something else before he left but I didn't catch it.

Like some stupid Neanderthal I stand there a second and start debating whether I "lost" the little fight because I didn't push him back or whether I "won" because he did calm down and I didn't apologize. So in the end, he did what I told him to do and I didn't do what he wanted me to do. 

At this point my wife comes up to me and tells me the movie is sold out and we should get something to eat and come back for a later showing. She didn't see what had happened. So, we went and got some burgers then saw the movie. 

The next day was my birthday. It was one I probably won't forget soon.

Happy Freakin' Birthday

It's been a strange week or, rather, it's been a strange few days. Two major things happened. One of which was a first for me and the other was a throwback to junior high school, but not in a good way. Though, now that I think about it there are not a lot of good things about Jr. High in general.

Never seen the movie but the sentiment seems apt.

The first strange thing to happen occurred on Friday and requires just a little backstory to fully appreciate. One of my coworkers abruptly left after the Christmas holiday. He didn't give two weeks notice and put us all in a bit of pickle as he was in charge of preparing materials for us to teach once the break was over. So, come school starting up again we need to rush to make sure we have everything we need. On top of that his wife is battling cancer, has been for that last year, so he has been very inconsistent with his work already. No one really blamed him for this (how can you?) but over the year he used up a lot of our goodwill already by not showing up to work or rushing things and my boss had already been pretty damn accommodating of his needs. So, my boss is understandably upset over how this guy ended his job with us and feels a little betrayed at not being given the same respect.

The man who quit is an older guy, sixties I think, with greasy, almost never combed grey hair, thick arms, short legs and a big barrel chest, was probably on the hippie side of the '60's. Nice guy. Good with kids. I'm sorry things didn't work out with him.

He had an interesting career life story, too. It seemed like anytime I brought something up with him he had done it at some point in his life. In the Navy? Yup. Worked at a Post Office? Yup. Co-owned a brewery? Yup. Built homes? Yup. Lived in like every country in North and South America? Yup. Grew and sold a lot of pot? Yup. In fact, he even gave me some weed infused beer once. It sure tasted like weed infused beer, too. Sadly, it just made me sleepy. Though, everything seems to just make me sleepy lately.

Now, it's Friday. I'm working at our office/warehouse doing the stuff he usually did. We have a mini-emergency. Someone else calls in sick and we have no one to fill his class, except for the co-owner of the business who only handles the scheduling/payroll/booking side of the business. She does not like to be in the spotlight and does not like to be in charge of a class full of young kids. She reluctantly agrees to sub because we have no other options and I start prepping her and giving her a crash course in the lesson she has to teach.

Just as we finish, a short older lady dressed in a black skirt and jacket with thick pantyhose on her legs walks in carrying one of our big bulky lesson kits. She has an obvious long black wig on and super red lipstick on. We both turn to greet and time slows waaay down for all of us just as things get waaay awkward.

The person I'm training is very quiet. I'm surprised this woman has one of our kits and feel something is out of place but can't pin it down until I look at this older lady's eyes to greet her. They are the same as the guy who just quit.

Jeffery Tambor looks a lot like my former co-worker

Without thinking I say "Hey _____" in a happy voice, just like how I usually greet him. Then the revelation floods over me and I immediately regret saying his name. This isn't the guy I knew. This is the woman he's become. I doubt this woman is using the same name. As shocked and unprepared as I am, I know enough about trans-issues that we have to be reintroduced and I should find a tactful way to get this woman's new name without making things worse.

Before I can do that or even really begin to plot out a course of action on how to do that, my boss comes in and confronts her. My boss is a kind hearted guy, but also very pragmatic and very into efficiently growing and running the business. He is also, as stated earlier, pretty pissed at my former coworker.

After a few strange and otherworldly beats, the former coworker speaks first. I don't recall exactly what she said but it was something to the effect of "The man you knew no longer exists." I want to hear more. I want to hear her new name.

My boss does not. He says back, "That has no bearing on this." and then starts berating her about giving two weeks notice and how he feels like he was taken advantage of. It is always awkward being in earshot of someone getting browbeaten for something at work, Even if you know it's deserved. Now stack on top of that someone dropping your jaw and saying they are an entirely new person of the opposite gender and it becomes awkwardmageddon.

My former coworker says very little to my boss. She just apologizes, leaves the kit she is carrying on the table, and leaves. The three of us left are just stunned. I wish my boss had been more open and less geared toward getting his anger and annoyance off his chest. Not saying it wasn't deserved, but given the scenario I'd have like to heard my former coworker out more.

We laugh a nervous, awkward energy releasing chuckle because there doesn't seem to be anything else to do. We talk about it a little. Not one of us is judging or unsympathetic to what just happened. Not one of us has any ill will or malice towards trans people. We are all just truly shocked and genuinely surprised as you rarely are in life.

I'm still wrapping my brain around it and wish it had gone smoother than it did.

Alright, this took longer than I thought. So, I'll save the next thing for my next post. Here's a teaser: it involves me calling some guy's wife a dick.