(Random links appear and disappear in this blog, none are placed by me, please don't link on them. I am investigating what's happening.)
It was MY turn!!
I answered the phone. Joe was driving and we were heading up to the hotel in Gravenhurst where we stay when I'm teaching summer school in Barrie. We are fastidious about the rule of no talking while driving, a more appropriate law I cannot imagine, so though it was Joe's phone, I answered. A fellow, with a deep, deep voice asked for Joe. I told the voice that Joe was driving and asked if I could take a message. He said he was from a medical firm, he was being very cautious and very anonymous - a good thing, medical information is privileged. I asked if it was for the 'thing' that Joe uses (medical information is privileged remember) and he said, "Are you his care provider?"
Now, that's the first time THAT has happened to me. Usually people think Joe is a very kindly care provider hired, at great cost no doubt, to support me. This was a real reversal. I had only a second to respond and I said, in my deepest, most masculine voice, "No, I'm his wife."
There was a ................. pause ................ at the other end of the phone and when the fellow started back up again, I realized that a voice can blush, a deep blush too. We continued on chatting for a moment or two and then he fumbled a goodbye and we rang off.
It has always irritated me that people still jump to the assumption of heterosexuality - I'm guessing if I'd been a woman the voice would have considered, maybe even flat out assumed, that the relationship was one of love and choice. Joe is almost always, I'm modifying always with almost but believe I shouldn't, assumed to be my care provider, care assistant, personal assistant. It was fun, for a moment, to make a bit of a statement.
I wonder, though, after the phone was hung up, what the voice said next.