Saturday 2 February 2013

Woohoo! I've Got the Mouth of a Trucker. Thanks.

Most people who know me professionally (not from the oldest profession, either), would be shocked at who I really am. I refer mostly to people who knew me in the corporate world. They were always astonished when they found out even the smallest details of my 'real' life.

I remember a conversation I had with a woman at work back when I still worked for other people to earn a living. We were talking about a TV show. You've probably heard of it. So You Think You Can Dance was in the midst of a season. It's absolutely the only reality-type TV I've ever watched more than a single episode of. I mentioned that my favourite routines were always the hip-hop ones, because I used to dance hip-hop. Love the hell out of it, actually. It's a blast, and I love a lot of the music. There's nothing quite like moving your body to music. A lot like sex, except without the mess or payoff at the end, just the passion before. If you can dance with someone before sex, that's even better!

Well, when I mentioned the hip-hop dancing the look on her face was priceless. It was even more hilarious the one time I actually swore in front of her. She swore all the time, but for me to do it at work was unheard of. Every single person in that office thought I was a total prude, apparently. None of them realized I had a tattoo, swore like a truck-driver, danced hip-hop (and belly dance, too), lifted weights, played the drums, or fixed my own car.

It's amazing the perception people can get of someone from what they see at work. In my case, admittedly, the dichotomy was bizarre. I just always figured that a corporation pays people to put up a specific facade, so I did that to the point where they knew nothing about me on a personal level. I could do the job I was being paid to do, no matter what, but perception and image are everything. They sure as hell didn't know that at one time I had a nose ring - sneezing optional.

I use the phrase 'mouth of a trucker' because someone actually said that to me once. I laughed at him. The f-word is used consistently in my house, in damn near every sentence. I walk out the door, though, and I shuffle off the relaxed attitude like a mortal coil, turning into the consummate professional. It's a bit like leading a double life, except in my case it's more a question of MYOB than anything else. I didn't want my co-workers to know me. I didn't fit in with the 'gotta go shopping' mentality, and didn't want to. I'm sure it's nice to have absolutely no worries beyond the latest shoe sale, but my life has never been about that. I still like shoes, though. I am human.

People who think they know me in my personal life are generally shocked when they see what I can do with a spreadsheet (that sounded kinda dirty, actually). I've seen my friends' jaws drop when they saw me in a suit. When they'd ask me about a new job, it was always with a huge dose of surprise that they'd discover I was doing investment analysis, or accounting. They just couldn't connect me to that world. One seemingly staid and boring world. My personal life was more like an amusement park. 

Still more strange were my hobbies that I did when no one was around. I can knit and sew. I can also cook. I say I 'can' do those things (and not to brag but I'm pretty good at them), but I don't do them often. I design furniture, build things, and I even had a contract with a gallery in Edmonton to show my artwork many years ago. I'm into computer gaming, and tend to read voraciously. Very few people would know all those personal things about me, let alone associate them with the professional ones. They see the person I wear at the time I'm wearing it, and assume there's nothing else to me.

I have wide-ranging tastes in a lot of things, though, so I can go from Molson Canadian to a white wine with ease. I understand the sweetness grading on the wine rack labels at the liquor store. I know the proper way to open a champagne bottle, and use it when I open one. I know what an ice wine is. Maybe the best way to describe me is to say I have an educated palate, but it's not particularly sophisticated. I'm just as happy with the beer, and at least I don't feel like I have to get dressed in something other than pyjamas to drink it.

I'm the same with food. I like to know things about pretty much everything, but knowing them doesn't make me feel like I suddenly have to eat nothing but the best from that point forward. Just because I know how to use a set of chopsticks doesn't mean I can't use a fork. What's kind of weird, though, is that I learned to use chopsticks from playing the drums. You get used to handling a thin pair of sticks (not that thin sticks are always appropriate, but we'll leave that aside for the time being).

Sure, more people are getting to know more things about me, just because I post them here, but there are still a few surprises in store for anyone who thinks they know everything there is to know about me. There always will be. I guess, like Winston Churchill's views of Russia, I'm a "riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma: but perhaps there is a key." Maybe I'll find it one day, and hand it over, but I'm more likely to leave someone guessing. I suppose it's better than being compared to an onion.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Please keep your comments respectful, without strong profanity, or they will not be published. Thank you.