the wallets

It's a given that women in IT are sparse, and in being one of the few, I occasionally find myself mixed in with a group I call the Wallets.

At around 9pm last night I found myself at a dimly lit round table at The Old Homestead Steak House in Manhattan with 10 senior managers and senior executives - all of which were men. From a distance the scene may have looked like a semi-official business dinner as we engaged in serious conversation and they continuously consulted their Blackberrys.

As the only female and by far the lowest ranking member of the group, I was clearly an outsider catching a glimpse in. I think the natural reaction to being placed in such a situation would be severe discomfort and a tendency to retreat from conversation. But something I discovered along the way is how very little the men I was sitting with have changed from the nerds I knew in school. Conversation topics have transitioned from computer specs and cartoons to project bids and stock portfolios. But what hasn't changed is the underlying context of these conversations. It's status. It's knowing whose penis is bigger than the next guy's. It's proving to the rest of the room that you're better, richer, smarter, whatever.

My role in the boy's club is an easy one - to remind them of the insecure nerd they really are and to knock them down a notch. The fact that I'm a girl gives me a safety net.

After dinner and a few bottles of wine, a nightclub seemed like the most appropriate destination. Table and bottle service of course. Here's to you boys!