Walking from the bus to the office this morning, I tried an experiment. Instead of shifting my shoulders to avoid walking into people, I kept them square, and walked without dodging, head up, making eye contact. I wanted to see how many people would move out of my way. I walked in a straight line, to the right side of the sidewalk (as customarily expected, since we drive on the right here, too).

I walked into four people in the 200 meters between the bus stop and the office door. Six people swerved their shoulders to avoid me. One person walked into my shoulder so hard that we bounced off each other, both of our left shoulders hitting hard enough to hurt my already injured left shoulder.

What I found of particular note is that EVERY SINGLE PERSON WHO WALKED INTO ME WAS MALE. Every person who avoided me was female.

Normally, I will swerve my shoulders to avoid walking into people. I will adjust my walking away from straight ahead so that we do not walk into each other, drifting to the side. In large crowds, I will twist my shoulders to avoid contact.

I am speculating here and about to do a gross generalization, but based on my empirical evidence this morning, women do this. We will accommodate the male, and twist away to avoid contact. This is a socially acceptable practice. Women defer to men in the physical realm. (Yes, totally a gross exaggeration, not all women. give me a break, you know that is an a--hole thing to say, of course not all women, I'm talking socially acceptable practices ingrained into little girls' heads that they defer to men.)

This morning, when I didn't follow that socially acceptable practice, I was physically hurt. I did it by choice, completely worthy of an experiment's results. I find my results fascinating. Before you tell me I was an asshole for not swerving, why did none of the men swerve, but all of the women did? Was it because of my gender? Because of my size? Because of my eye contact?

I would very much like to try this again with other subjects: a small man not deferring and a large man not deferring, to start. See if physical size has something to do with these results, and not just gender. My theory is, clearly, gender bias.

I went to the local gift shop at lunch today to buy bus tickets. I used my last one this morning and like the ~10% discount I have over paying cash for my fare. That, and the fares are such that I rarely have exact change so I round up and end up paying a 10% premium on my fare.

So I went to the shop. They were out. Maybe tomorrow. Okay, worst case, I can break the twenty so that my $4.50 fare doesn't cost me $20.

Nope. Won't open the till without a sale.

I left.

After work, I walked to a bigger pharmacy / quick mart for bus tickets. Everyone told me the store carried them. Great! They are four blocks out of my way, no big deal, and I need the steps.

Except it is pouring rain. And I didn't bring a jacket. Fine. Worth getting wet to save $15. I tromp off and am duly soaked.

I arrive and hop in line. Eventually I arrive at the cashier. She looks bored. "No, only [she rattles off two stores each four blocks farther away than where I want to be]. They have them."

"Okay. Can you break a twenty?"

"No. I can't open the drawer."

Today has not been the best of days. I'm about three more frustrations away from bursting into tears. "Okay," I say. "Can you help me? What do you suggest I do? What is the cheapest thing you can sell me? Can you sell me something for a dime?"

She looked around. "I can sell you a bag for a nickel."

"Great! Could I have one bag, please?"

"Yes." And she rings up one plastic bag, of which I have no intention of taking with me.

I hand her a $20 bill. She types in 0.05 as received cash, and the drawer pops open. "Whoops!" She says, and slams the drawer shut.

"Don't shut the drawer!" I exclaim. "I just want change!"

"But I'm not allowed to give out too many coins."

...

...

...

"I don't want any coins. I want the five that you have in your hand. Here, I have a nickel, too." I fished out the nickel.

She put all of the money back in the drawer, and hands me a twenty.

Now I do want to cry.

"Can I have change for the twenty?"

"Oh! Yes." And hands me 4 fives, instead of the ten and two fives she had previously.

At this point, I just want to leave. I fear my voice has been loud, in a space where everyone is quiet and soft-spoken. I am near tears. I am cold and wet and, well, let's be honest, somewhat hungry. I just want out of there with change for the bus. Please?

So, I took the bills, declined the receipt, possibly unintentionally rudely, and left, into the pouring rain, feeling miserable.

As I walked out of the store and turned left, a homeless guy (according to his sign) was sitting under the store's eaves. I pulled the bills back out of my pocket, took one, shoved the rest back into my pocket, and handed the guy the five.

I don't know how his day was going. I hope that five helped him find a dry place to sleep tonight. If nothing else, maybe he'll go back into that store and buy something, putting the five back into the till that was so difficult to get it out of.

I went to the local gift shop at lunch today to buy bus tickets. I used my last one this morning and like the ~10% discount I have over paying cash for my fare. That, and the fares are such that I rarely have exact change so I round up and end up paying a 10% premium on my fare.

So I went to the shop. They were out. Maybe tomorrow. Okay, worst case, I can break the twenty so that my $4.50 fare doesn't cost me $20.

Nope. Won't open the till without a sale.

I left.

After work, I walked to a bigger pharmacy / quick mart for bus tickets. Everyone told me the store carried them. Great! They are four blocks out of my way, no big deal, and I need the steps.

Except it is pouring rain. And I didn't bring a jacket. Fine. Worth getting wet to save $15. I tromp off and am duly soaked.

I arrive and hop in line. Eventually I arrive at the cashier. She looks bored. "No, only [she rattles off two stores each four blocks farther away than where I want to be]. They have them."

"Okay. Can you break a twenty?"

"No. I can't open the drawer."

Today has not been the best of days. I'm about three more frustrations away from bursting into tears. "Okay," I say. "Can you help me? What do you suggest I do? What is the cheapest thing you can sell me? Can you sell me something for a dime?"

She looked around. "I can sell you a bag for a nickel."

"Great! Could I have one bag, please?"

"Yes." And she rings up one plastic bag, of which I have no intention of taking with me.

I hand her a $20 bill. She types in 0.05 as received cash, and the drawer pops open. "Whoops!" She says, and slams the drawer shut.

"Don't shut the drawer!" I exclaim. "I just want change!"

"But I'm not allowed to give out too many coins."

...

...

...

"I don't want any coins. I want the five that you have in your hand. Here, I have a nickel, too." I fished out the nickel.

She put all of the money back in the drawer, and hands me a twenty.

Now I do want to cry.

"Can I have change for the twenty?"

"Oh! Yes." And hands me 4 fives, instead of the ten and two fives she had previously.

At this point, I just want to leave. I fear my voice has been loud, in a space where everyone is quiet and soft-spoken. I am near tears. I am cold and wet and, well, let's be honest, somewhat hungry. I just want out of there with change for the bus. Please?

So, I took the bills, declined the receipt, possibly unintentionally rudely, and left, into the pouring rain, feeling miserable.

As I walked out of the store and turned left, a homeless guy (according to his sign) was sitting under the store's eaves. I pulled the bills back out of my pocket, took one, shoved the rest back into my pocket, and handed the guy the five.

I don't know how his day was going. I hope that five helped him find a dry place to sleep tonight. If nothing else, maybe he'll go back into that store and buy something, putting the five back into the till that was so difficult to get it out of.