I often joke about the fact that I am a bitch. In fact, most girls do. I have even admitted my love for the word in a recent post. Yet does being a bitch REALLY mean a career-driven, take-no-bullshit kind of woman? As far as my generation goes, it doesn’t. Being a bitch means you are rude to other females (especially attractive ones) and ENJOY IT. I claim no innocence for I have also been known to turn my nose up when meeting said females, or anyone new in general. I can’t say I enjoy displaying that kind of bitchiness, but it happens. As many times as I dramatically tell myself I am this horrible being who should stick her head in the toilet, there is always someone I meet who proves me wrong.
Recently, my company hired a new girl and it was obvious. You saw her every time you came into the building. The first couple of days I was in my own world, not acknowledging any change because I was dealing with my own bullshit. Then it came to my attention I should probably introduce myself (I was new once and I try not to forget it). So I complimented her accessories and told her my name.
“I’m Daphne, nice to meet you!”
Her upbeat spirit was sincere – not just because she was thrown into the pit of a new company with 300+ people.
I realized I had more to ask Daphne. Almost every day for about a week, I was inquiring about something work-related. I even asked for her last name so I could add her to my contacts. Then, on “Taco Thursday”, a weekly office occurrence, I had to confirm.
“Daphne, this is urgent, will there be tacos today?”
“Yes, I just got the email! Are they any good? I didn’t get them last week.”
“Oh you MUST try them! They are so yummy.”
“Okay 🙂 will you walk by my desk when you go so I can join?”
I did just that. Unfortunately, the credit card machine wasn’t working so Daphne couldn’t try a taco. I later told her she saved herself the calories and the desire to pass out at her desk, as I was feeling after consumption.
Am I writing this anecdote to discuss my job’s lunch options? No. I’m writing this because all of these things I did towards Daphne mattered, and I had no idea until last Friday when she sent me a message.
“I hear you moved to another building. So sad!”
“Yes, but rest assured…I will still visit from time to time.”
“Yay! You were one of the first people who introduced yourself to me, I really appreciate it. Take care!”
As if someone smacked me with a taco bowl, I realized the reality of that sentence. A few days had passed after her start date and I was STILL one of the first people to recognize her existence. Not only did she notice, but it meant something.
I may not always treat people in the best possible way, but I DO have empathy towards being the odd woman out. Especially in entertainment, people are self-involved, self-serving, and frankly, inconsiderate nincompoops. It’s as easy to feel alone in this industry as it is to spot a B-list celebrity in The Valley (LA joke, don’t worry about it).
Whether or not I am a bitch may be subjective, but to Daphne, I’m not. The truth is, when you take the time to notice someone, you recognize she has feelings, she has opinions, she has a unique presence. She isn’t just a skirt at a company, she’s a person who has the same fears of being unwanted as you do. You are both equally vulnerable and THAT’S more than a “real” bitch could ever comprehend. So I’m asking you, girls, next time you’re in one of those superior moods and you happen to meet someone new, try something different. Don’t be a bitch. Be someone else.