This morning I should be up and excited, we're heading off to Kansas City, MO today to see Brandi Carlile in concert. I am excited about it, but there's something weighing on my mind.
I am a coward. A complete, utter coward. Its really bothering me.
Yesterday at work one of my coworkers needed a margarita made and I told them I would get it for them. When I went to the bar I saw Mrs. Boss pulling their drink ticket and talking to them about the drink. I assumed it was being made and went about my business. Turns out, the drink never got made. Well, it didn't for quite some time.
Now, while I admit this person should probably have come to kick me in the pants, I also confess I should have been responsible enough to follow up with them to make sure everything was okay. Not long after that Mr. Boss found out the drink didn't get made. He made it, and then he went to yell at that server about their lack of follow through and attention to detail. Mr. Boss doesn't yell too often, actually, its pretty rare. I know he's been under a lot of strain from corporate lately to make things better, nay- perfect- with regards to our service standards in the store.
I should have jumped in. First, it was my mistake that caused this to happen. Second, yelling at a relatively new server about mistakes makes them afraid. They don't want to get yelled at again so they refuse to take risks when they should, they develop bad habits, they become timid. None of these things are things we want for our staff. By all rights, I should have interrupted and told him it was my fault and let him yell at me. But I was afraid.
Shame on me.
What kind of leader, supervisor, am I to be if I am afraid to go to bat for my staff? It would have been no skin off my back. Mr. Boss likes me. Even if he had turned his yelling on me, I wouldn't have been fired. I wouldn't have been written up. What he really needed was to let go of all the pent up frsutration he's been feeling about our company standards and our very new crew not quite making it up to snuff yet. I know better. I am better than that. I actually had nightmares about it...my concience is certainly punishing me for it today, that's for sure. What shames me more is that I am particularly fond of the coworker he was yelling at. It should have been even more incentive for me to be defensive on their behalf. Yet, I wasn't.
You know what's funny, I got to thinking about it yesterday, and then again this morning when I was laying in bed thinking about my dream. I'm afraid of men sometimes. Now, don't take that the wrong way...I'm not one of those lebians who think all men are evil and out to hurt me and every other woman they run across. I'm not terrified to be near them. I don't think they are bad or less superior than women...its not like that.
Anyone who knows me will tell you, I like to hang out with guys. They make good friends. That make excellent companions. But, truth be told, a man in even a slightly bad mood terrifies me. Up close and personal I am always nervous about them. I find them physically intimidating. I'm not sure why. I mean, I could postulize about the men in my life that hurt me and scared me and treated me poorly, but I'm also a rational enough person to know that just because one man hits or emotionally abuses or physically intimidates does not mean they all will. Even in light of what my brother Punk called "my taste for losers" I know that the men that came before Kitten were not a representative sample of all men, I just happened to choose a lot of jerks. In fact, as many of my close friends can attest, I find myself more angry than afraid when it comes to those situations, especially the ones from my past that involve me personally. I'm not a cower in the corner kind of girl. I'm a step up, return the blow and raise my voice in rage kind of girl.
So, yes, I thought about it and I marveled at myself because I have realized that the only two men I know that I am not actively intimidated by are Saukura and FlyGuy. Might also explain why the two of them are the only two men that visit my home with any frequency. I mean this as no affront to the other men I know, especially to the very sweet husbands of some of my closest friends. They know that. But like it or not, men make me anxious when they are physically close to me. Even if I know they won't hurt me.
If I had a therapist still, this would go on a list of things I need to resolve immediately. As it is, I don't, so I have to ponder my own cowardice here. I have to confess, I feel ashamed. I feel stupid. I feel like I am somehow less....I don't know. Less. Having realized this, of course, I will take the time to think on it, I will think of how I might overcome this irrational fear.
I'm not the kind of woman who likes to be afraid. I don't tolerate fear, though I have plenty. I'm pretty sure I've posted about my fears before. But, truth be told, when I am afraid, I usually push it out of my mind. Life must go on, and I must learn to walk upright if I am to be successful. This, to me, was an incident that pointed out a glaring chink in the armor with which I protect myself on a day to day basis.
I'm off, I have to pack. Honestly, I feel better having shared with you this rediculous cowardice on my part. That might just be the first step to becoming a better woman. There's no telling.
I'll be back tomorrow with a report about the concert and how things went. I hope you have a beautiful Monday.