Shame On Me

I love my job.  I get payed well to wait for things to happen.  This waiting gives me the time to do things like write this blog.  But today I will explain to you one part of my job that I hate.

Yesterday Tash my girlfriend of 7 years just got her drivers license.  Today she had plans to come up and visit me at work, and bring me a few groceries, but her itinerary got filled up; work to do, friends to visit.  Our friend Kyle had invited her over to hang out after she was done work.  Kyle's been quite busy lately and neither of us have seen him much so she couldn't pass that up.  Tash had the idea that she could drive both of us out to visit, and instantly I knew and said that wasn't a good idea.

Why would I say that?

My supervisors are fine with Tash visiting, I've had other visitors up before… why not Kyle?

Kyle is gay.

He's not flamboyantly gay, and in all honesty that aspect of him holds no bearing on our friendship at all.  He's a dear friend and I've known him since high-school we've always had great respect for each other our ways of life.  He's been a consistent friend for over 10 years.  There was a period of a few years when he went to the city and fell into a very bad lifestyle, but after he pulled himself out and came home I was one of the first people he called.  That really meant something to me.  Kyle is one of the few people who I would help out in an instant, no questions asked, no favours demanded.  One of those true friends that some may never know.

But I can't have him out here.

The oilfield is sexist and racist and prejudiced.  Individually the people who work in it might be very tolerant of all things, but within the oilfield they must prescribe to that trinity.  It's the role everyone plays and I have to play it too, I am a guy medic, I do one of the few jobs out here that it's acceptable for a woman to do.  And in the mind of many it is a woman who should be doing what I do.  It's frustrating, but I accept it.  Whenever I announce that I'm leaving to go on days-off I'm always greeted with the same words:  "Does she have better tits than you?" 

This is not a likelihood, this is a constant.  You have no idea how sick of it I am.  But I do not say anything because I like my job, and in all things there are aspects that we must endure.  And so I play my part and chuckle along with their stupid inane sexist question that will never, ever change.

Out here a guy who is gay is not someone you associate with.  They could be someone who does your very hot  girlfriend's hair and takes her out for drinks when you want to play poker with your friends.  But being friends with a "fag" means that you must be one yourself, or a closet one, and that's reason enough to send you packing and get someone with "better tits" on the job.  So to my great shame I must turn away a good friend because of their ignorance. 



Read and post comments | Send to a friend


About Helmsman

Importing a Vox Blog.
This entry was posted in Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to Shame On Me

  1. htj says:

    Is it really that bad? I dunno, you've got to make a living and live with coworkers so I can't second-guess that. But sometimes people either a) surprise you, and grow up if only temporarily, or b) back down when someone essentially tells 'em fuck off, my friends are my friends.
    If any of 'em has been in the service, they'd know that most medics (in war) are men. And if they've seen combat, they'd know that medics take the most risks: they're the ones in run out there under fire and help the injured.
    Its too bad you can't tell 'em to go eff themselves. One insane society.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s