Old my ASS!

When I hear the term “nice lady,” I don’t necessarily equate it to mean me. Well, I am nice and I suppose I could be construed as a lady (maybe not on a raucous Friday night), but the two together remind me of “old lady.” Much different than “nice woman” for some reason.  Personally, I usually refer to females as either young girls or women. I reserve “lady” for women in their 70s or 80s, and yet still, mostly call most females a woman. Because that’s what I am and they are.

So, imagine my prideful shock when I received a note from the owner of a Food Truck who hired me to help him start his business. Just listen – a little background here. He was my age (51) and we had a great interview then what I thought to be a better training session on the truck. We joked around and I did what I was supposed to do – it was a nice working relationship. (Though I do work during the day, I thought it would be great find something at night – something fun and cooking related to fill both the time and one of my passions.)

I was really stoked to help this man with his startup truck (he’s been in the restaurant business for 30 years, so he knows his stuff). Finding it difficult to fill even the most menial of jobs at night, I was starting to think it was my age or the fact that I’ve been self-employed for the past fifteen years even though I’m more than qualified. So when this guy wanted to give me a shot after so many rejections and now, a great hour-long interview, then subsequent training on the truck, I was very excited.

After that night and of his promises to call me with a set schedule, he was suddenly incommunicado. No answers to emails and then finally one to say that he wasn’t busy enough yet he’d call me when he needed me. Enter the local BUSY food truck rodeo with 2000 people likely attending.  I called him and emailed him about the rodeo and never heard back. I then saw his truck there with some GIRL manning the front and taking orders. How disappointed I was. Yup, she had on short shorts and a t-shirt. Guess age IS a factor even though I still offer some pretty decent legs myself and can converse easily with anyone. I had one word for him after that and I can’t write it here but it starts with “f” and ends with “er.”

I emailed him immediately and finally, four days later, he got back to me that he decided that he didn’t want a “nice lady” like me to be subjected to the heat and hard work required. Hello? What, am I 82 now? “Nice lady” is so condescending and especially since he is MY age...apparently he’s just a “nice man” which doesn’t sound as old as the nice lady thing.

There was really no point in my responding yet I did. I wouldn’t want to work for a jerk like that anyhow even though I know it would have been fun. I reminded him that we were the same age and that he really had no idea how hard I’d work and how committed I am to giving my best even if it’s all day long, in the hot truck and for hours on my feet. I told him about my hysterectomy a couple of years ago – that I was back at work a week later, New Year’s Eve, no less, acting as hostess and busser bussing during the busiest night of the year and in heels. Nope, he lost out on me, that’s for damn sure. But it still makes me see what I try not to look at in the mirror. I am a nice lady, but damn, I wish it didn’t have that “old” connotation. My heart is 20, I think I look more like 40ish yet to him, I’m just a “nice lady.” His loss, yet I’m still pretty pissed off and even more disappointed. He says he’ll call me when he gets the business “settled,” yet I’m not holding my breath and I truly don’t want to work for someone like that. Nice lady,  my ass.