-Any of the boys home? Girls and computers, same sex sexism

In this shithole I live in at the moment (I think I have mentioned that before), there are three boys on the first floor, and two women on the second. I live in the bloody basement – the troll under their feet. The Internet connection is atrocious – I think I have mentioned that too – and it turns out that all is honky dory down, but not happening up. One of the women have never had it working properly, and as I call the manufacturer of the miserable pile of technology, she butts in.

-Can you press some buttons on my pc? This guy did once, and then it worked.

She points vaguely at the navbbar on my mac. Somewhere in the general direction of top left corner.

-He pressed something here, and then it worked.

She knows as much about computers as I know about celebrities. Nothing.

-I have internet, all works, she says. And it turns out she cannot use her online bank, and have never been able to send mail. Yea. Well. Not my idea of working. I try to explain the basic data up, data down idea. That I checked one of those speedometers. It doesn’t register.

-The other place I lived. He just pushed something, and then it worked.

I am beginning to feel a slight echoing sensation in my head. Push. Dumb. Woman. Down. Stairs. I try to explain. The wireless thingy is sick. Connecting the router directly into my Mac, all is well. Using the wireless – nothing goes up. Out. Away. I cannot send information out, basically, but can receive anything at reasonable speed. It turns out she borrows the computer of one of the boys when she has to pay bills.

-He fixed it really quickly, just pressing something.

I try to explain my troubleshooting so far. I point at the router and the wireless. And then she comes out with it:

-Aren’t any of the boys at home?

_____________

Because she is thick as a brick and don’t listen and don’t understand. That makes me less capable of troubleshooting computers. Because I am female, she doubts my capabilities. The nature of my private parts, she thinks, decides what ability I have in solving problems, because she has none herself. She would understand less of the boys’ explanations, if they bothered giving one. But she would feel more confident that all that could be done had been done.

Kindergarden teachers – pushing down the stairs is too good for them.