The Estrogen Ocean

This story is not for the faint of heart. If you are a female reading this article please believe me when I say I have lost my mind and I am in critical need of psychotropic medications. If you happen to be a male reading this article please believe me when I say I swam in a sea of estrogen at my former workplace and needed rescued.

This sad whiney story I am about to tell you would make my former sociology professor roll over in his sleeping bag on Mount Rushmore (he?s a mountain climber). If this story would ever leak to the press or find its way into the wrong hands, my life could be ruined. My existence could be in jeopardy and the very reputation that helped me climb to the level of mediocrity in my profession could be ruined.

You see, the small company I used to work for was gender saturated. Out of the almost two hundred employees working there, approximately twenty were men (maybe?but that?s a different story). Personally, I supervised about forty women. I named my department the Estrogen Ocean. In the Estrogen Ocean on any given day could be found some very deadly creatures?and they didn?t have gills. These creatures were generally circling my office when I would first come to work. I barely had time to take my winter wraps off when I would be attacked by one or more of these gill-less critters. They first took a leg, next maybe an arm, and by noon, they had aimed directly for my heart. At quitting time I had taken at least ten anti-anxiety pills and usually had to be carried away on a stretcher to my vehicle.

Many nights I sailed, downtrodden and frustrated, home to my lovely wife. I would say to her, ?I?m never going back into that creature infested ocean again. I can?t take it anymore!? My wife stuffed homemade ravioli into my mouth and asked if I would like to continue eating such precious food? I dressed in armor the next day and pressed forward into the abyss of hormonal nightmares. Again, the creatures encircled me and the pattern repeated itself. I was a hostage in my own department. I was a hostage in the Estrogen Ocean

Don?t get me wrong I think most women are brilliant, sensitive, and reasonable beings. But, it?s different on the Estrogen Ocean. Something happens to them. Their personalities are changed with the twinkle of an eye. When I would interview these gill-less beings for a job in my department, they seemed so willing to work hard and to love all creatures good and evil?but hey, what the #&#* happens? After six months on the job, I saw a gleam of darkness in their eyes. I saw murder and a new found love for knife wielding and sharp objects.

Finally, an old friend threw me a life preserver and dragged me into another ocean. I call it the Ocean of Egalitarianism. I like it much better here. No more shark bites and sucking leeches at my new job. I now swim undisturbed and have weaned myself off the narcotics.