Thoughts on… Being a Chick Who Does Shtick

Maybe it’s because I went to an all-girl high school. Or that my home growing up had its share of bossy-yet-awesome chicks (can you say three sisters?). Or that I’m prone to living inside my head (a LOT). Whatever the reason, I missed out on some pretty basic ‘girls don’t do this’ rules over the years.

I picked up a new one recently. Guess what? Turns out, it is supposedly a generally acknowledged fact what women are less funny than men. Ooooooooooo-kay. My “Aha Moment” on this topic happened recently during my day job in marketing. I was in a departmental meeting about natural disasters and our disaster recovery software.

Another Marketeer: There are a lot of natural disasters in Texas. Hurricanes, lightning storms…

Me: The Bush Family.

Everyone: Stares at me in stunned silence.

To my credit, the guy from Germany was smiling.

Yes, there are multiple explanations here for the lack of laughter. Maybe that wasn’t funny (Possible, although like any political dynasty, the Bush family is inherently hilarious.) Or, maybe I’m in a room full of republicans (since I’m in Massachusetts, that’s also not likely.)

So, I started doing some situational research. There are lots of guys in our office, and they do shtick all the time. I started noticing how it’s about MORE than making each other laugh—it also shows off mental muscles. After that, I started noticing how when I join in the verbal fun, folks can get a little uncomfortable and run for the hills.

In the end, I asked a female work buddy if I’m imagining shit. She rolled her eyes, saying that of course it makes them uncomfortable because girls usually aren’t funny, adding “Didn’t you ever notice how many more male comedians there are?” At this point, I almost said, “No, I never notice stuff like that because I spend most of my life looking like I’m listening to crap while I’m actually doing fun stuff in my head like planning out the intricacies of dragon culture.”

At the last second, I figured that final bit of sharing was a potentially career-limiting move, so I begged off for some coffee and waited until after work hours so I could write this blog post instead.

Well, now it’s after-hours and here it is. It appears that everyone knows that Girls Don’t Do Shtick and there’s some circumstantial evidence to support this point. Maybe. But whatever the truth is, this will not change me in any significant way. Mmmmm… Sort of. I must admit that The Little Competitive Shit side of my personality has been enjoying barging in on ‘joking around boy-time’ with a new gleam in my eye.

How I do love it when they run for the hills…

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