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A Pottymouth

in an Office Full of Princesses

· Freshman Year

You can take the hockey mom out of the rink but you can’t take the rink out of the hockey mom.

- Puckgal (aka me)

When I started my on-campus student worker position in career services, I had been out of an office for a little while. I was freelancing, working on my hockey mom blog and enjoying my politically incorrect existence. All that changed when I put on a dress (to be fair I wear dresses a lot anyway) and started front desk responsibilities in an office environment.

First off I have to say that the job was a blessing, really a blessing. The administrators and directors worked with my school schedule, are terrific role models, and we had a lot of fun working together for nearly two years. A well formed group of women, who got the job done. I was also exposed to far more of what the campus had to offer as well as learning what it takes to run an institution of higher learning. I wasn't just going to classes, and leaving campus, I was a real part of the culture.

I worked really well with the students, having just right balance of peer credibility from actually taking classes alongside them and the mature adult factor that helped in telling them just how it was "on the outside." My bosses (yes, more than one) seemed to like my creativity, writing and marketing background. What they may not have liked as much was my bluntness. I am generally not one to sugarcoat things, especially when I get to know you. So, before you knew it I was letting my opinions, and a few choice hockey mom words fly.

Before you ask, yes it did happen in front of a student. Only one student, and only one time, but still.

I was at the front desk signing him in for his appointment, and when he walked away I realized I had forgotten to hit some button to properly initiate his arrival.

“Shit.”

Immediately, I raised my head and made eye contact with the student on the side of the room. I could hear snickering from behind me from one of my bosses, and my heart sank down to my sandals.

“So sorry, so sorry!” I kept parroting, while the student, not a day over 20, wasn’t even bothering to hide his grin.

This is not something that happened in our office. The women were (and still are) highly professional, speak intelligently, wear spindly heels that I would never be able to walk in, and carry Kate Spade bags for goodness sake. They did not spend their weekends hurling obscenities over lousy penalties, and missed saves. These are not women who “shit” in front of a student.

Unfortunately for me that day I firmly established my role as the pottymouth, although I never again swore in front of student. Not saying that I didn't come close. Despite that they kept me around for nearly two years, only releasing me when I graduated and could no longer hold a student worker position. Perhaps I provided some bizarre diversity which didn't have a check box on the new hire paperwork, but was considered desirable nonetheless.

I certainly didn't, and still don't, carry a Kate Spade bag.

And f*ck it, at this stage of the game I can’t really be anyone but myself. Even outside of a hockey rink.

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