Today, I needed to have a talk with one of my bosses. (I have three jobs, equalling three bosses, if I count myself as my self-employed boss, which I do.) Y’see, he’s a very smart, fairly nice guy (and I use the words “nice guy” with reason, as will be explained later) who has been laboring under the impression that since I am female; my job includes, and I quote, “taking care of him”.

He advertised for a graphic designer. He got a graphic designer. He also got a web designer, office assistant, errand runner, receptionist, courier, press operator, tutor, and amature hardware support person. Sadly, no where in that list was the term “nanny” included.

But, because I’m female, he often tells clients that I (along with his wife) am in charge of keeping him “in line”. I have also been encouraged to blame any character defects he may have (so not going there right now) on both his wife and his mother. As far as I can tell, women exist in his universe to take care of him. I’ve never seen him away from work, so I’m not sure if he considerers that to be their only role, but considering how often he makes reference to his need for an outside caretaker, I’d say it’s a strong maybe.

So this morning we had a little talk, where certain things were outlined.

1. I am here to make graphics, not to take care of you.
2. I have a boyfriend, family, friends, and two cats. I take care of them.
3. Referring to me as the person in charge of keeping you “in line” is unprofessional.
4. Doing it in front of clients is worse.

He apologized. I believed him. I don’t think it will be happening again.

But then, he had to justify himself. (Remember when I mentioned the Nice Guy thing? this is where it kicks in.) He started to explain how he “was one of the first people to stick up for women…” which was right where I cut him off.

Because, I explained, his previous sterling behaviour with any and all other women had no bearing whatsoever on the current situation. It was neither 1978, 1985, or 1990. It was the year 2003, and I was the woman he was dealing with right now.

The rest of the day proceeded with admirable efficiency, and no annying comments. To me or anyone else. If the job were in a proper office and not a loud, chilly, warehouse, I might even have started to enjoy myself. Sigh.

Like I tell myself at the end of every day, at least it pays the bills.