“Maybe you women should get a real job.”
His voice, thickened by the scotch he had clearly overindulged in, sliced through the chatter of the airport bar. With his loud demeanor, he drew the attention of those nearby, who likely anticipated a scene worth recounting later.
He appeared to be in his fifties, white, with a receding silver mane. The type who believes his opinion on everything is worth sharing, especially in the casual setting of an airport lounge.
Initially, I assumed he was harmless. He took a seat beside me just as I was ordering what I anticipated to be the first of many rum and cokes during my lengthy six-hour layover. “Hey there! Mind if I join you?” he asked. I nodded, albeit reluctantly. “Where are you headed, darling?” The endearment made me cringe slightly, but I brushed it off, knowing this was typical Southern charm.
“Memphis,” I replied, crunching an ice cube, feeling particularly classy. “Are you headed out or coming home?” he asked, rattling his glass for another drink.
I told him I was returning home after a business meeting in New York City. The moment I mentioned my work, his interest shifted, and I caught him glancing at me with a mix of curiosity and skepticism.
“What do you do?” he probed. “I’m a writer,” I answered. He laughed, questioning if I had written anything he might have read. I couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought. “I doubt it,” I replied, realizing he was likely not my target audience.
“Parenting blogs. BLEH! Everyone’s doing that now—complaining about everything. Who even reads that?” He clearly had an opinion, and it was not a flattering one.
Here’s a tip for engaging with strangers: when someone shares their profession, it’s best not to insult their work immediately.
I sighed and called for another drink, aware that I would be spending quality time with the bartender.
“Well, if you’re genuinely asking, our audience consists mainly of parents—moms, dads, guardians, and even teachers and nannies. It’s more than just complaints, though venting is a significant part. It’s about sharing struggles that often feel isolating. When we voice our worries, it creates a sense of community, reminding parents they’re not alone in their challenges.”
The bartender nodded, giving me a supportive fist-bump. Earlier, she had mentioned being a single mom herself.
“I’ve raised three boys,” he boasted. “I didn’t have time to sit around worrying about choices. I work for a living. Maybe you ladies should get real jobs.”
At that moment, I felt a surge of frustration. I could have walked away, but my patience had evaporated. Instead, I burst into laughter, tears forming at the corners of my eyes.
“Oh, sweetie,” I managed between chuckles. Men often love being called “sweetie” in that tone.
“What’s so funny?” he demanded.
“Oh, you poor thing. I can’t determine if you’re drunk, ignorant, or just not listening. Did you not catch that I was in New York for a business meeting? I HAVE a job! Even if I didn’t, raising children is a full-time job in itself! Try hiring a nanny or babysitter for free. You’ve raised three sons and never worried about making the right choices for them? Either you’re lying, or I genuinely feel sorry for your wife. I want to send her flowers—give me her address! No? How about chocolate? Wine? Come back!”
He stormed out, and the bartender brought me a complimentary plate of nachos. I laughed, thinking of everything I could have said and then growing irritated all over again. After a few more drinks, I called my husband—not just to confirm my ride home, but to talk to someone who doesn’t make me want to pull my hair out. Sometimes, encountering negativity helps you appreciate the positives in your life.
I still think about that poor man’s wife and genuinely wish I could send her flowers.
This article was originally published on May 1, 2019.
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Summary
This article discusses a confrontational encounter in an airport bar, where a man belittles the work of mothers and those who blog about parenting. The author humorously asserts the value of motherhood as a legitimate job, emphasizing the emotional labor involved in parenting. The piece concludes with reflections on appreciating supportive relationships amidst negativity.