It's not me. It's you.

I miss chauvinism

In the North, men don't hold the door open for you. I mean, they will if the only other option is to literally slam it in your face, but men here don't not jump out of their way to make sure a girl walks through a door first, gets on a train first, gets a drink at a bar first, exits a burning building first, takes the last chocolate chip cookie, etc.
When I first got to college in the South I was annoyed by guys who would leap in front of me to get to the door first. For like ten minutes. I was soon taking advantage of the deliciously chauvinistic system. Sometimes I would wait outside a public place for ten minutes for someone to come and hold a door open for me. I did not feel I was the weaker sex. I simply had forgotten how to do these things on my own.
I did not remember that this was a regional thing until I visited New York on Tuesday. I reached the door to Starbucks moments before the man next to me and politely stepped aside, as has been the custom. We had an intensely awkward moment staring at the shut door which I apparently was responsible for opening, having reached it first.
I am still trying to get readjusted to open-your-own-door land where a grown man will elbow you to maintain his place in the line to enter the train, shooting you a glance over his shoulder as he takes the last available seat that says "It's the 19th Amendment, and its your own damn fault."

posted by k. @ 7:21 PM