Young'un

When I was younger I was described as the five year old going on fifty. Then the ten year old going on one-hundred, then the fourteen year old going on forty...you get the picture.

When I was eighteen and had struck out on my own (meaning I was a phone hostess at a Times Square Restaurant - woo!) girls who were twenty-two and twenty-three thought I was twenty-seven or much older. Not that I looked it, I generally look like I'm twelve, but I act it, especially at work.

So I am curious as to how anyone in my office found out that I am young. Perhaps it's my boundless energy and willingness to scrabble up the side of a wall in order to hang banners. Perhaps it's my limitless joy in cookies. Perhaps it's because I spend quite a few of my nights drinking heavily and then am up bright and early with no real remorse or hangover. Perhaps it's because I haven't been able to break myself of calling people "Sir" "Maam" and "Mr./Ms. So-and-so".

Perhaps it's because I dressed up as a kitty cat for Halloween and ended all my sentences with "meow" for an entire day.

Alright that was a little immature, but my bosses adored it. So much so they have taken to calling me "Kitty" rather than "Katy" - yeah I'm all about that. They also took to petting me on the head. Okay, so I was wearing cat ears and cats do in fact love to be scratched behind the ears, and come to think of it I love to be scratched behind the ears - however, the weird thing is...they continue to do it.

Whether I'm sitting on the floor trying to file thousands of legal contract or at my desk typing up a new report, or on sitting on my desk haggling for a cheaper airfare...for some reason I am irresistible to pet. Even my fellow admins now walk by and pat me on the head, give me a good scratch on the neck...I feel like I should be shaking my leg in uncontainable joy. Pity I don't wear my cat tail to work everyday.

In addition to my random petting the pet names have returned with avengence. Along with "Kitty" and "Katy-Kitty" my favorite "kiddo" has returned. Also "sweetie" "honey" "dear-heart" "darling" "cutie" and "girl" (not it the "girlfriend" way but in the "what a good girl" way). I suppose I should be outraged by it all...but I kinda like the familiarity and the pet names - and I think some of the people who call me that have actually forgotten my real name and I don't want to embarrass them.

Maybe my favorite scene that comes with being labelled the "young" one in the team or the "kid" is when someone swears. The first time my boss slipped up and said - of all things - "bullshit" in my presence he looked as though a truck was about to hit him.

"I didn't say that, you didn't hear me say that. I'm sorry I said that!"

I smiled and prepared to say my standard come back to all political correctness issues "I'm married to a sailor."

That usually puts everyone at ease. If I can deal with my husband, I can deal with anyone.

It didn't really help with my boss though. Gentleman that he is, he is very careful to not swear in my presence, nor allow me to hear other people swear. I used to think this was because I am a woman, until we were on a conference call with another female who could have made my husband blush. The more she talked and the hotter the words came, the more my boss started to squirm. He cast sidelong glances my direction, he tried to turn the phone down, I think I saw steam coming from under his collar. Finally he said:

"Listen, you just had something in your mouth I wouldn't put in my hand. Cool it...Katy is hear with me."

"Oooh! Oh! I am sooooo sorry Katy. I didn't know, please ignore everything I said!"

I couldn't laugh, I wondered why, of all people, I had been labelled the prude. Me, the one who drinks on Sunday, and Saturday, and heck Monday through Friday. The one who blasts Marilyn Manson on the way to work. Why is everyone so afraid of me. Heck, I wear fishnets to work! I should be worried about walking on eggshells with other people.

It's not till this new petting phase kicked in that I really got it. I'm young enough to be the daughter of most people here. In fact most people here have a daughter my age. Like real good girls they are already graduating from college and planning their weddings. I'm sure they grew up just as sheltered as the people in this office try to keep me. Unfortunately, it's a little too late for me. No amount of rose-colored words will change the fact that I'm still not finished with school, eloped at the age of twenty and probably will never be termed a "real classy lady" a "lady" maybe - but never classy.

I just wished that since I have been embracing my new-found grown-up life other people would have let me grow-up by now.