Out and Aboot

After working from home on a recliner chair in jammies for a week, I returned to the office yesterday. Wee!

I’d predicted that the worst case scenario would involve my being an idiot and trying to lift heavy things when I shouldn’t - but, that didn’t happen. Instead, the worst case scenario turned out to be what I refer to as a "bro shake". I hadn’t realized how often this happens in my world… or maybe just on a college campus (and elsewhere?), but there’s a LOT of grab-hand-hard-and-shake-arm-or-fist-bump-or-variations-of-this going on. To which I responded to this time with a whimper and, "Careful. I just had surgery.”

This happened about five painful times.

There was one guy who bounced in to the office while I was in there with a couple of other students. When he went in for the bro shake I diverted with, “Just had surgery. No shaking for me.” This prompted him to ask, “Surgery? What for?”

Me: “My chest…”

Him: “Chest? Did they operate on your heart or something?”

Me: “No, no! Top surgery.”

Him: “Top surgery?”

Me: “Yes. To get rid of my breasts! So relieved!”

He appeared to be caught off-guard. His mouth literally fell agape and his brow furrowed as he tried to process my response. Meanwhile, in my neck of the woods, I replied with the honest reason that I couldn’t shake his hand. If I’d dislocated my shoulder skating along a sidewalk or something, I would’ve blurted that out instead. But, when it’s presumed that I'm cisgender and I reply, “My boobs are gone!”, clearly there’s a whaaaaa puzzle pieces clicking cognitive disconnect going on.

Instead of feeling compelled to elaborate and before he had a chance to respond, we were interrupted by someone else in the office asking me questions about something on the H:\ drive something another. And then he had to run off.

A little awkward.


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