This was a large Jiu-Jitsu class, with no familiar faces. And no female faces. Instructor greeted me with a smile, as always, and suggested I jump in to practice with someone. Everyone was paired off. He was busy on-boarding a newbie. While everyone else grappled on the mat, I stretched.
And stretched.
And stretched.
You can only work on your legs for so long before it’s obvious you’re stalling. I got up and wandered over to the card rack where students’ cards show how many classes they’ve had. Probably not supposed to be nosy, but I was desperate to kill time. Savage Teen Girl is close to her fourth stripe (one for every 20 classes). As I suspected, Adrian Brody’s card was gone. He must have quit. 
Seeing their cards made me wonder, where was Timmy? Surfer Dude 1 and/or 2? Lopez? Enthusiastic Teen? Indifferent/Sweaty Man? Heck, I would’ve been grateful even for STG at that point.
I sat on the bench and checked Twitter… Signal… read about cuttlefish on wiki… And overall felt grateful to have a smart phone so I looked slightly less like an idiot.
I considered being assertive, just walking over to a pair of dudes and asking if I could jump in. But no one even glanced my way. Another guy I’d never seen came in late. I smiled; he ignored me. I looked at him again, ready to compliment his eyebrow ring and say something about my cartilage piercings, but he jogged past me onto the mat. Another guy greeted him with, “There are no third wheels here.”
Unless you’re a girl, apparently.
You know those movies where the woman is the lone female in a male-dominated field so she has to be confident and assertive to gain everyone’s respect despite the odds stacked against her?
Writing and Martial Arts 