ooh, i need a dirty woman

As it often does, the topic of conversation in my office turned to Asians. And also as it often does, the topic of Asians quickly morphed into a discussion about Asian massage parlors.

Ah, the old rub & tug.

"That's why we love having Robin around," my boss laughed, "because she not only understands the joke, but takes it to a whole new level of dirtiness."

I do.

I am the only female at my company. The men I work with (minus the newbie) are offensive, rude, and chauvinistic. Which means I'm just another pea in the pod here.

I've been one of the guys for as long as I can remember - my life's training has fully prepared me to work amongst penises. One of my boyfriend's mothers once politely suggested that I make some female friends. I compromised and made a whole slew of gay friends instead. You wanna talk musical theatre, bitch?

Now, my best friends are my girls (unless you count my dog). And I've lost a lot of "my boys" to other girls, to marriages, to jobs, to I-think-I'm-in-love-with-you's, and once, just once, to a Saudi Arabian princess with horrible teeth.

But my boys at the office? They bring my foreign-prostitute-joke-telling, racial-slur-slinging impolitical correctness to a level I never imagined was possible.

And, of course, I'm the only one here with a pretty sweet rack, so that helps, too.