A few weeks back one of our softball captains, Vandy, came up to me in the office to touch base about a game that he was going to be missing.
Vandy: “Are you going to the game tomorrow?”
Vandy: “And is the boyfriend [who also plays] coming by to walk down with you guys?”
Me: “I know he’ll be there, but I’m not sure if he’ll come here, first. Why?”
Vandy: “Well, we just need someone to carry the equipment bag down to the field. I have it at my desk.”
Me: “Um…I can carry it down.”
Vandy: “I don’t know. It’s pretty heavy. Let me just check.“
Me: “Vandy. I can carry the equipment bag. It’s not that heavy.” (Side note: It wasn’t even the bat bag. This one just had gloves, bases, and balls.)
Vandy: “Yeah…well…let me go see if any of the other guys are around.”
I shook my head as he walked away, mostly amused by his insistence and only vaguely insulted.
But then, just last night, I was picking up a package at the front desk of my apartment building and it happened again.
Front Desk Guy: “I don’t know. This box looks pretty heavy. I don’t know if you can handle it.“
Me: “Well, why don’t I just try it and we’ll find out.“
FDG: “Eh…are you sure? I mean it’s pretty big.” *eyes me up and down*
Me: You’ve got to be kidding me! Just give me my damn package! “I’m sure. Let’s just try.“
Now, I appreciate FDG’s concern, really, I do. But as soon as he passed me the box I couldn’t believe how long he’d stalled. It’s not that it was light (it was a case of wine, sent by Mama, sadly NOT for my consumption), but it was only about 30 pounds! (Yes, you bet your ass I weighed it when I got upstairs.)
I may not have the guns of a body builder (not a bad thing, I don’t think), but I also don’t look like I’m going to break if I get pushed, so what gives? Consideration is nice and all, but I’m a big girl, fully capable lifting and carrying large objects.
Plus, suggesting that I can’t do something is only going to make me want to do it more.