Being one of the only girls in class…

Yep.

This is your wood shop, your advanced gym, your weightlifting, your whatever else is dominated by the manly men. For me it was a piano class. Weird, right? But if you understand how easy the class was it wouldn’t seem so strange.

I will be honest and say that 50% of the reason I took the class is because I heard lots of fellas were in it (the other 50% of the reason being that I wanted an easy class too). What I didn’t realize is the pressure I would feel being one of three XX chromosomes in the class. The whole time I was in that class, I showered everyday. And wore makeup. And did my hair. And brushed my teeth. Yes, it was an abnormal time in my life.

You have to put yourself in my shoes though. There were 21 pairs of male eyes watching me (or so I hoped) every time I stepped into the room. I needed to dress to impress and express…that I was seriously single and ready to mingle. It didn’t help that I have a knack for crumbling under the close scrutiny of the opposite sex and the sweatiest hands you will shake in your lifetime. It goes without saying that in a piano class you need to touch the keys once or twice, maybe. But apparently its not socially acceptable for you hands to drip sweat onto the keys, especially when its two people to a keyboard…

It also was unfortunate that, even in college, in guy world – a girl is equivalent to a cheat sheet. The guys who sat next to me were constantly leaning over to look at my answers or to see what page we were on. I was their personal pencil provider, as well. Needless to say I felt used…they could have at least have taken me out to dinner first or just bought me a candy bar. Seriously, anything would have been nice at that point, like learning my name or saying please. But sorry that’s a little demanding of me.

I guess the class was not the trip to boy paradise like I had hoped for. The only thing I was basking in was my own sweat. I finished that semester with slightly improved music knowledge, a few less pencils, a bruised ego, and the bitter taste of…

This is awkward.

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