First of all, the Rotary club where we had lunch didn't have any female members. I believe this is the first club we've encountered in such a state. It's not really their fault, however. Women haven't applied to be in the club. They did have one woman member, but she moved away. I hear there are Rotary clubs in the UK that still won't admit female members, but fortunately we haven't encountered one of these clubs up close and personally.
One of the Rotarians we've been hanging out with has made some comments that are slightly off kilter. In order not to give away his identity, I'll be as generic as possible. First, he said that he wasn't inclined to trust a certain kind of information from a woman, even though it was information from a man that had led him off track to begin with. I was sure to point this out to him. Then later when I asked for a glass of water with dinner, he said I was "well trained". Hmm.
The last straw was on the drive back to my hosts house tonight. We stopped at a petrol station because Jeremy and I had a craving for cookies and milk (shortbread is easy to find here, but a good ol' fashioned chocolate chip cookie is a bit of a rarity). This is when I met the Yorkie bar.
You see that? It's not for girls.
I read the label. It's just a chocolate bar.
I'm not one to back down from a challenge, so I bought it. I took it back to my room and opened it.
Yep. A chocolate bar. Why shouldn't I, as a female, eat it? Is it going to do me harm? Will it turn me into a dude?
I bit into it.
It's a really good chocolate bar, actually. Have I been the victim of a clever marketing ploy, or is there something I'm not understanding here?
I'll be going to bed soon, and I'll be sure to update this blog tomorrow if I sprout chest hair, an adam's apple or ummm... extra equipment.
Update: It's Thursday morning, 7am here in England. As far as I can tell, I'm still a chick.
Amy
