A Basic Summary of the Debate on Public Employee Rights

A commenter on an this editorial by a low-wage federal worker has hit the nail on the head. It’s so simple, but it’s perfect. I feel an obligation to share:

“The reason this whole “over-privileged government worker” thing has gotten traction is because the quality of private sector employment has degraded significan­tly over the last 2-3 decades to where government employees now LOOK privileged­. When you make $8 an hour with no benefits and aren’t allowed to go to the bathroom on your own volition, $12 an hour with health care coverage and unschedule­d potty breaks looks like a king’s ransom.”

That, my friends, it is. My current job is the first job I’ve had that offered me benefits, and it seemed like a gift from the heavens. What kind of priorities do we have when health care, an employee discount, and some vacation time is thought to be a “gift from the heavens”? (And I have no choice but to use my vacation time any time I am not at work–even if I’m in the hospital.)

This is also the first job I’ve had where I’ve not had to ask permission to use the bathroom. I just go. And funnily enough, one of the co-workers that I started with blanched at me when I did–because it was such an outlandish concept to her. Imagine! Simply getting up and going to the bathroom when you need to is outlandish!

It’s a sad and sorry state. It’s even sadder that people are behaving as if it is bratty, selfish, and over-entitled to expect these things.

Employees make their companies money. Government employees keep the country running. It’s not selfish, outlandish, or bratty to expect fair compensation, respect, and dignity in return.

Complications Working Night Shift

Since I’ve started working nights, I’ve noticed there’s definitely a hierarchy-and night shift workers are treated differently, much like part-timers are treated differently than full-timers. It’s not just in the workplace-it’s outside of it as well.

We privilege the day over the night–businesses are open during the day, though they may or may not be open at night (or overnight). Now, before you accuse me of being all PC-happy, let me explain. Daytime is just dandy. We have all this natural light to see and shit. But there’s this attitude that nighttime activity is shady, because it’s dark outside, you see, and dark = bad.

So. I work at night. I work well past “bed time.” When I get off work, I don’t usually go immediately to bed. Why would I? When the day shift goes home, do they go to bed? Ha! No! There are things to be done, not the least of all, winding down from hours of workworkworkworkOMGYOU’RECHATTINGworkworkGODYOUHAVETOPEEALOTWHATISWRONGWITHYOU
ORAREYOUJUSTTRYINGTOGETOUTOFWORK!!!workworkwork.

So. Bed time for night-shift is very late. We are, however, still human (though sometimes it doesn’t feel that way) and so, we need to sleep. Logically, go to sleep later, sleep later, right? You’re not going to wake at the same time as your day-shift comrades, duh. Except…many don’t see it that way. There’s this idea that’s fixed in our collective mind, that those who sleep “late” are lazy. The cutoff for just sleeping, and sleeping “late” have been determined by our daytime compatriots, however.

Needless to say, I’ve been treated as or called lazy quite a bit since I’ve started the night shift. Frustrating? Oh yes. Compounded by the fact that I’ve always been treated as lazy for sleeping the 9-10 hours (when I can) to avoid seizures, the frustration is doubled. Night shift works the same eight hours that day shift does, but for this reason, we’re treated as if we’re lazy. In the workplace, that means management (who all work 1st shift, naturally) blames us for errors, malfunctions, and other setbacks, regardless of when they occur. It also means if we’re busy, we’re the ones to take on the extra work. Outside the workplace, we’re met with condescension and/or contempt. This is if it’s not assumed we’re unemployed. Then, well, a good many of you know how the unemployed are treated.

Sleep isn’t a very valued activity in work-centered cultures. We’ve created entire industries out of helping people avoid sleep. Because business is conducted in the daytime, many night shift workers must forgo sleep to maintain households, further careers, or take care of other things. Sometimes the ability is taken away if a night shift worker lives in a household of day-shift workers. After all, if the day shift workers are awake, you’re just being lazy if you sleep, so you’re not entitled to the consideration of quietness that you give to the day shift workers when you return home from work, right?

Am I complaining? You bet your ass I am. I’m grouchy for lack of sleep. I notice the suspicion in the looks I get when I do my grocery shopping at o’dark-thirty at 24-hour grocery stores. I see the resentment in the clerk’s eyes, at my “making” them be there. I hear all the underlying messages when others ask, “why haven’t you done _____ yet?” or “Oh, you just now woke up?” I catch the eye rolls and the dismissive tones when I ask for quiet while I sleep.

But I’m also asking you to think.

“Guy Friends” and Boundaries.

Friendships are wonderful things. They enrich life. Friends become a pillar, people you can depend on  and trust—they are the people that share the good and bad that life throws at you.

So when a friend, especially a good friend, betrays you, it hurts so much more than a betrayal by anyone else, because of that mutual trust, respect, and life-sharing that is so inherent in friendships.

Every woman has friends of the male gender. Every woman has fought with parents, religious mentors, or girlfriends about the very idea of “guy friends.” Some think that friendships between persons of opposite gender cannot happen, that there are always ulterior motives. We’ve fought this idea, insisting that this idea is wrong.

But sometimes they’re right.

And damn, does it suck. You almost never find out that this “guy friend” has ulterior motives—say, is attracted to you and wishes to have a romantic relationship with you, for instance—until you’re vulnerable. This vulnerability takes on many forms—it may be that you’re talking to this friend about a broken relationship, or upset for another reason. It may be that you are alone with this friend someplace, whether it be your home, his home, a bar, restaurant, out of town, on the job, wherever.

But suddenly, you find yourself stuck. You may panic. You feel your trust in this friend evaporating. You want to disengage from the conversation and confide in someone else, only to realize that no one would really believe you, or pressure you to act as if nothing has changed.

But it has. You question yourself—because you might have been wrong all along that you and he were good friends, and that boundary was unshakable. You question the entire friendship: was this his motive all along? Did I ever do anything to indicate we might be more than friends? Panic again—because you had trusted this friend, and so relaxed with them. You’d let down your guard. You confided in them. They know so much about you. What if? What if? What if? And the friendship, in an instant, is lost. You mourn that. You instinctively put up that guard that you wear every day when facing a world rife with misogyny, sexism, and physical danger that is unique to women. You mourn that you have to put that guard up for someone who, only five minutes before, was a close and trusted friend of yours.

That is the betrayal. It may only take something as little as a “joke” about him finding you attractive, or an insinuation that you should really spend the night at his place instead of going all the way home. They’re such little things, but they break the boundaries of a friendship, and thereby the trust. You let down your guard with your friends. You can relax. You don’t have to worry about drinking too much. You don’t have to worry that they’ll hit on you, get angry if you reject them. You don’t have to worry if they’re going to follow you home. In the case of a disability, like mine, I don’t have to worry that they might take advantage of my epilepsy. If a guy friend breaks that boundary, then all of those worries return. It’s even more frightening because you weren’t prepared for it. You felt safe. Now that friend feels like another creeper in a bar trying to “get you right under [his] arm.”

Now what do you do? Because while this reaction, and these feelings, are perfectly normal, many people, including said guy friend, won’t quite get it. Maybe some will. The answer is, outside firmly establishing boundaries, risk anger, a fight, or a rift in your social group, and slowly building up that trust again, I don’t know. There isn’t a 100% safe solution that won’t cause anger or resentment. All I can do is write about it and hope that enough men will see this, and be more aware of the consequences their behavior with their female friends can have.

Bar Etiquette

Last night whilst enjoying a cold beverage of dubious content at an establishment where I’m a third generation regular, it came to me that I should write a post about bar etiquette.

Yes, bar etiquette.

People of all kinds go to these establishments, and the beverages of dubious contents have a tendency to lower people’s inhibitions and thus outward manners recede and inward prejudices come out.

A few weeks ago, I was at a club catching up with a dear friend of mine, when a rather intoxicated middle-aged male began “talking” to two MOC at the next table. He began asking them offensive questions like “where do you come from” and “I need my garage cleaned out. Do you guys work?” and other, more offensive things. My friend and I were shocked. This guy was really going there? Really? We decided we needed to leave before we lost our tempers. I did, however, pull aside a bouncer as my friend was paying his tab. They were speaking when we left. I hope that jack-a-lope was tossed on his bigoted bum.

Last night, at my favorite establishment, we noticed a newbie. Now, this place is not outwardly impressive. Most patrons are regulars, and by regulars, I mean they’ve been patronizing this establishment for decades, or a relative has, and they’ve been patronizing for years. Everyone knows one another and looks out for one another. I like it that way–I feel safe going there because everyone knows me as either my father’s daughter, or my grandfather’s granddaughter. I can enjoy beverages of dubious content worry-free. The newbie mentioned it was his first time there (we already knew that). Then he mentioned he’d been kicked out of a local bar (with a bad reputation. red flag.) for life (another red flag). Why would you tell the regulars of this your first time here? It was boggling. Then he proceeded to rant about welfare and lazy moochers. Looks were exchanged. Politics? In a bar? Really? Yep. He went there.  He left soon after, and breaths of relief were breathed.

And so came my revelation.

1. If your racist tendencies come to surface after drinking, don’t drink in public. Or stop before you get to that point, because really, no one wants to hear that. You don’t want to be that guy, do you? You especially don’t want to be that guy the woman at the next table remembers and intends to out your bigoted buttocks all over the internet. (Unfortunately, I don’t remember his name. But I’m talking about YOU, guy-at-Entourage-in-Bowling-Green-Kentucky-on-July-2-2010!) Oh, and, if you’re a racist, another good reason to avoid getting intoxicated at bars is because you might loudly announce your full name to everyone while ruining everyone’s good time. Not a good idea.

2. Politics + alcohol = bad idea. Politics + alcohol + public area with people you don’t know = really bad idea. People are trying to have a good time. There’s a reason bars never play the news on their television. Never assume that people agree with you in regards to politics. Oh, and good time does not mean the same thing to everyone else that it does to you.

3. That last sentence was a really good one, so I think it deserves repeating: A good time does not mean the same thing to everyone else that it does it you. You may have a blast ranting about mythical welfare queens, or screaming at the top of your lungs about how drunk you are, but not everyone will agree. Just saying.

4. The presence of a woman at the bar does not indicate her availability for your entertainment. There’s a lot of reasons to be out at a bar, you see, and your specialness does not spread outside of your mother’s vision. Establishments are not safe havens from courtesy, respect, and manners.

5. Dancing is fun. However, when your dancing partner stops dancing and is merely humping you, it ceases to be fun. Not a dog in heat? Don’t hump. Dogs get a newspaper to the head for it, you’ll likely be the dancing pariah of the establishment. And no, that’s not a good thing.

6. Decide to buy a drink for someone? Awesome. That’s quite generous of you. Just let me remind you that your decision to buy someone a drink is not a contract of obligation on the receiver’s part. Politeness demands a thank you, not a blow job. Or even a conversation. We’re here for fun, folks. (see #3 for emphasis.)

7. Ladies and Gentlemen, please don’t pee on the seats. Thank you.

8. Don’t pee on the floor, either.

9. You know, now that I think about it, don’t empty drainage anywhere but the toilet. Thanks.

10. If the place is hoppin’, get your drinks and move awaaay from the bar. Yeah, yeah. I know. But navigating a near mosh-pit with a full drink will be pleasant for neither you nor me.

11. Each establishment has its own atmosphere. Please observe if you’re new. A relaxed bar with chatty patrons aren’t going to appreciate obnoxiousness, and you’re probably not going to enjoy a place where the music is bumping and the patrons are bopping if you’d like to chat over a beverage of dubious content.

12. Don’t make messes, (see 7, 8, 9 for clues) and clean them up if you have an accident. Bartenders are there to make happy juice for you, not to be your mommy.

13. Pay your tab, tip your happy-juice-maker, and don’t leave your monies on display. You never know.

14. Don’t drive drunk. Call a cab, call a friend, call your mommy. And no, not even you, can drive perfectly fine while duuuuudde, you’re flapping wasted!

15. Don’t brag about how wasted you are. You’re not at a college party, and you know, college students get pretty annoyed at that, too. You’d fit in well with the freshmen, though.

16. Watch your back, and everyone else’s, too. If someone is staggering, give them a hand. Looking sick? Lead them to the bathroom. You friend getting close to the line? Get them home by the safest means. Don’t be afraid to cut a friend off. They’ll thank you later. Hopefully they’ll pay it forward.

Anything I’m missing?