Home > Woman in a Man's World > Woman in a Man’s World

Woman in a Man’s World

By Robin Brox

By Robin Brox


It was getting close to lunchtime and I was hanging around my plush office in the uncolored condiment factory sticking some bendable straws into a desk fan. Time was creeping along. I had to shake things up.

Cause I’m a woman in a man’s world.

I called downstairs to receiving. Barry picked it up.

“Hey Bare,” I said (he hated that). “Have you been receiving a lot of big stuff today?”

“Sure, Miss Brox. We got them uncolored bacon bits in.”

“Yeah? Big load? Was it a big ol’ load?” I asked. I was starting to feel kind of flush.

He seemed confused. “Well, the usual, Miss Brox. We’re sorting it out now.”

“Yeah? You moving the load around? Sticking it in where we need it, Bare? Filling that hole?”

Bare was starting to breathe hard. “Yep…I got…all my men on it.”

“Yeah, Bare? You tag-teaming those delicate little esoteric realities?”

“They do make a salad Miss Brox. I admit to it.”

“They make it flower don’t they, baby? It opens up like a bloom in spring, Bare?”

There was a long pause. “Well…I like ’em, Miss Brox. But they are just bacon bits.”

That killed it. I sat up straight. “Fine then Barry. Good work.” I slammed the phone down.

I took off early and headed down to the parking lot where the weightlifters hung out.

Cause I’m a woman in a man’s world.

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