Down with Feminists

Since I'm still in the interview process (meaning I have no job and no apartment and live off Erin's extra Digorno pizzas, while watching a guy on LA Ink announce that his cat is his soul mate), Erin decided to take pity on me. She was recently promoted from Front Desk Bitch to President's Assistant Bitch, and accordingly the Feminist Majority needed someone to come in and temp for them while they looked for a permanent replacement.

I know, I know. The Feminist Majority has a bit of a reputation: men hating, revolutionary bi-curious women that forgo shaving and get thrills from wearing tank tops and mini skirts, while shouting derogatory slurs at men for their past crimes. They beat up pro-lifers with their own posters of half-aborted babies (which look alarmingly like raw chicken breasts), they constantly find new and inventive ways to talk about vaginas and then bring the hate if you get uncomfortable, and when it gets cold they don't wear jackets, they wear layers of plaid flannel button-downs and pretend to be lumberjacks.

I was so pumped. I like hating on men, shaving sucks, plaid flannel brings out the green in my eyes, and if Angelina Jolie propositioned me I'd totally hit that. And I have ALWAYS wanted to beat the crap out of a pro-lifer.

Unfortunately, when I went in I only met super nice women of varying ages, all of whom appeared to shave on a regular basis, liked the majority of men, were even-tempered and polite, and more than happy to help. There was no screaming, no vagina comments, and not a single flannel shirt to be found in the entire office. Not even a hint of plaid anywhere.

This is gonna suck.