As if that’s really a possibility
Just looking at the title of the blog, you would know I don’t make a lot of bones about being a gay architect. Especially the gay part. I’m out to clients, contractors, vendors, etc. And no apologies.
However, once in a while I think to myself: “Too gay?”
I had a moment early this morning during a site visit. The weather was a balmy 25 degrees, and in my own defense, I was in a heavy denim coat with a sweater underneath. Clothing I was sure would be warm enough.
Except I was wrong. Because 25 degrees is 25 degrees.
My client shows up dressed much more appropriately, but he likes to be outside and knows what to do for this type of weather. I, on the other hand, consider staying at the Radisson camping.
And then the moment comes when he tells me I really need a hat because you lose most of your heat out of the top of your head.
“I don’t look good in hats.”
Really? That’s my excuse?
Did I just say that out loud?
Could I have sounded any gayer?
Probably not, because he clocked me pretty quick:
“You can fix your hair later.”
When you’re not sure who’s bruised more
I would like to say I was graceful. Or that I looked like I was carrying out something slapstick from Three Stooges. Except I can’t.
After 20 years on the job and countless site visits, I finally had my first work injury Thanksgiving week. And it was about as ridiculous as you would expect it to be.
Walking across a floor comprised mostly of joists, I stepped off. Not intentionally. As I quickly discovered, the end of the board someone had laid down as a path didn’t quite reach the next joist.
No blood lost or stitches required. No feet dangling through sheetrock ceiling. Only the job super there to see it.
Trying to figure out how to get my foot off the board – now sticking up in the air – without having the end swing back up and hit me in the nether regions. Trying to gracefully extricate myself from the crawlspace. And did I mention that the job super was there to see it?
Mind you, I did end up with quite the bruised shin. Or at least kind of a bruised shin. While I was expecting my lower left leg to be black and blue, all I got was a little discoloration and swelling. Here I was feeling so butch with my work injury and that’s the best I could do?
Not that it didn’t hurt and is only now feeling close to healed. And not that I’m not grateful that it wasn’t something far worse. (On one high rise project we had to take the stairs up while they held the elevator for a framer who shot a nail into his kneecap.)
I just expected to be the one more bruised. Not my ego.