Act 1. Scene 1. (Wish I had a gun to shoot.)
At my office desk
Me (Brown, female); RandomWhiteGuy (a consultant & soon to be colleague, to be referred to as RWG); Boss
Boss: I have the map for **insert name of popular kids theme park in Dubai**
Me: I love **insert name of popular kids theme park in Dubai**
RWG: I am going there. Do you want to come with me, to take care of my kid.
**What happened in my head: “Are you being sexist or racist, you a$*hole?”, takes out her brass knuckles and punches him in his face**
**What actually transpired (and am so proud of my delivery)**
Me: Could you be more sexist? Would you have said that to a male colleague?
RWG: Ah, you said you liked the place.
Me: Yes, to go to with my kids.
RWG: I have no one to take care of my kid there.
Me: Hire a maid.
RWG: I have a maid, she won’t get a visa.
Me: Do you really want to continue this conversation?
Boss: Maybe it started as a joke…
Me: No, it didn’t. It’s sexist, and I don’t have to tolerate this.
RWG: (Looking clammier than he did few minutes earlier) I didn’t mean to be…
Me: I hope so… (cuts short the conversation and continues with earlier discussion with boss)
Me: (Still awaits an apology)
Fortunately this wasn’t one of those situations where I fumbled, and later, in futility, thought up a response in my head. I am glad I gave it to him directly, to his face. Yet, I am smarting and furious; I so wish I had a gun, or brass knuckles, or something very sharp…
PS1: RWG doesn’t know me. This is our first interaction. So any excuse of him having a banter can’t be accepted.
PS2: I write this in public, because I don’t think this is an official exchange/communication and needs to be treated as a confidential exchange.
PS3: Healing with writing.
Amend: Added location, and the fact RWG will soon be a full-time colleague.