When I arrived at work this morning, The Library Officer asked if I'd had a good weekend. "It was okay," I replied cautiously. I dread being asked about my weekends, convinced that everyone else has had much more fun doing whatever they've been doing. As I spent the weekend sleeping and recovering from the first week at my new job, this was probably true.
"Do any partying?" he asked.
Partying? Either he thinks I'm younger than I am or I'm unintentionally giving out some kind of party girl vibe. I just shook my head and laughed.
Later, as I was being shown around the prison, an inmate shouted, "Miss, do you want to party?"
WTF?
I was wearing trousers, a shirt and Dr Marten boots, hardly clubbing gear. I'm a quiet, bookish librarian who has never been confused for a party girl.
I'm starting to feel paranoid about my appearance: the men looking me up and down, the smirks, the second glances, the blatant staring and suggestive comments. I knew this would be an issue when working in a men's prison but actually experiencing it is so confronting. I've always been physically awkward and never liked being stared at so this is probably the worst place for someone like me.
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