According to psychologists, males (but not females) acquire an "occupational identity" as adults. If they fail to do so, supposedly, it's actually supposed to be a problem for the adult male.
I don't know about that, but I do know that males very strongly catalog people by occupations. One of the first things that males do, if they do not know each other, but are engaged in a conversation, is to ask each other "so, what do you do?" Casual male acquaintances usually also get around to asking, "so, how are things at work?" Only men who very deeply know one another will skip the work questions, usually.
I note this as I recently had an odd experience, although its frankly one that I've had in the past as well.
I called a person who is in the business of selling a certain item to ask about an example of it that I had heard, outside of work, that was coming up for sale. I could tell this person was struggling to place me in context, when suddenly he said "Oh! You are the lawyer!" Not only was it like turning on a switch for him, it also told me nearly immediately I wasn't going to be treated seriously.
That may sound odd, but certain professions are not taken seriously in regards to certain things. If, for example, a neurosurgeon went into a used car shop to ask about a beat up Volkswagen, he's not going to be taken seriously.
Here, the item that was going up for sale wasn't for sale just yet, but it was going to be that week. I asked this person to call me back as soon as it was listed. He said he would.
He didn't.
A client of mine, who is in the business that this thing pertains to, is now going to buy it and called me for help on that. Of course, I'll help. But how frustrating.
I've encountered this before. Years and years ago there was some grazing land that was somewhat tempting up for sale around here, and I called the listing agent and the agent never was able to figure out what I was asking about. He kept coming back to me with palatial mountain retreats. In his mind, that must be what I was wanting to buy. I finally gave up on him.
Or, in another instance, I once called a seller about something and left a message. I didn't hear back and didn't hear back. Finally, I called again, and he told me "oh. . . you wouldn't want it, it wouldn't interest a lawyer." Oh? Then why had I called about buying it in the first place? Geez.
In another instance, a rancher friend of mine had an early model Power Wagon which I very much admired. He knew that. He decided to sell it, and never told me. Why? Well, it just isn't the sort of thing he could have seen me wanting. By the same token, I'll admit, I once had a muscle car that I sold and later heard from his wife who complained that had she known I was going to sell it, she would have bought it. I just didn't see that being something she would have wanted.
I don't know what the point of this is, but I guess it's just an interesting observation about how we pigeonhole things. There's no reason that an oilfield worker wouldn't want season tickets at the Met, but I bet they'd have a hard time getting them. Assumptions. . .
