I was brought up to be king of my own damn world. “Women should fix their own shit,” my mother used to say, so she taught my teenage self how to change plugs and diagnose car problems. I even have my own man drawer.
If you don’t know what a man drawer is, you haven’t watched enough Michael McIntyre and don’t deserve to hang around this journal until you’ve caught up. Spit spot.
My mom was an engineer. My dad was an engineer. My stepdad is an engineer. With that pedigree, you’ll already have guessed that I know how to carve my own furniture using only a stone aged arrowhead and a sheet of sandpaper. Except I don’t. I also forgot how to fix a plug and the only car problems I can diagnose are a squeaky fan belt and fucked up brake pads. I do really have a man drawer, though, so I believe I’ve earned my engineer title.
My man drawer contains fifty thousand curtain hooks (those are manly, right?), my Lelo charger cord (also very manly, obviously), and some kind of screwey, pipe-ish thing. Oh, and there’s also a mystery VHS tape in there. It might contain a TV interview of me in a hawt dress looking sexy and saying intelligent things, but it might also contain a porn clip I made with my boyfriend when I was 16, so I’m currently leaning towards not taking it to the store to get it turned into a DVD. I also own a set of screwdrivers, which engineers like me use to get discs out of computers when they’re too lazy to turn them on.
I suppose engineers also use them to unscrew broken plugs, but I have no clue which wire goes where – an engineer can’t know everything. I guess my screwdrivers are mainly there to prove to visitors that I can fix my own shit, although mainly I can only glue things and do embroidery.
There are two types of women:
- Those who can fix plugs.
- Those who can sew curtains.
I can do neither, but I can touch type and run a virus scan so I’m not entirely useless. What to do once the scan turns up 236 obscure viruses is anyone’s guess, but at least I know how to click “scan”, which is more than you can do, innit? I can also sew my own hems in such a way that they stay up for two weeks before coming apart again.
Yup. I was taught to be king of my own damn world, which is why I give my male friends full access to my man drawer when they come over to fix my leaky taps for me.