This month's Snarl is by E. Klotz:

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Corporate Men

This is my rant for today. Corporate men. You know the ones; they stare at your breasts instead of your eyes. The ones who walk real slow down the street and take up the whole sidewalk like they own it because their mothers once told them that they were special.

Hey, I got news for you Mr. Corporate Man, while you were picking out Harvard ties to match your oh so perfect Brooks Brothers suit I was learning the laws of physics, along with other useful things, like sarcasm. You do remember physics, dont you? You know those Newton laws, like a force in motion stays in motion until a force of equal or greater mass collides with it. Well I'm that force. While you meander down the sidewalks of life, I'm walking fast. When my train of opportunities takes off I'm not going to be left at the station. And I'm not stopping for you. In fact I'm bringing all my baggage to dump at your feet. The force of my will is great, the mass of my ideas overcoming; so if you get in my way be prepared to be trampled. Oh, and if you think I'm a bitch, well I am. And I'm not about to apologize for it.

Why shouldn't I be aggressive? Why shouldn't I want everything? Because it scares you? I deserve it. I've worked hard for it. And I'm going to take it and enjoy it and not feel guilty about it. And if you don't like it go back to your "virgin wives" and "perfect little daughters" that you raised to be bubbled-brained and petite. I am not your Barbie, your Pygmalion, your plastic blow up doll. You cannot mold me, dress me, change me into your idea of what I should be. I am what I should be. I am here; I am now. My opinion counts. My opinion matters. My opinion is educated. And my voice carries.

I am not your rug nor your precious designer marble floor. Don't even think about stepping on me, over me, or around me. Or even wiping your feet near me. This is my space. My hopes, my dreams, this is my future. I will not let you or any of your expense- accounting- designer- European- car- driving brethren take it from me. I paid for this land. It's not leased or rented or even part of a co-op. This is my space, my property. Paid in full with frustrated tears, sweat stained clothes, and broken dreams. No trespassing allowed.

And if you think that I'll always be there to pick up after you, think again big boy. As soon as possible I'm outta here. To where I have the power. To where I'm not an accessory or a clog in a machine. To where my personal beliefs aren't mocked by the final product. To where people don't need me to act like a mother. To where I am respected for my talents and abilities, not how I organize the mail. To where trust and respect mean more then numbers and protocol. To where the future waits - for me. That's where I'm going, to where the future waits for me. A place far away from the things of man, my love, far away from the things of man.

I feel better now.

Until tomorrow.

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