Business school is a different beast. First of all, the classrooms are way nicer: padded swivel chairs and wooden desks that form a tiered half circle. These rooms have never seen the likes of a sticky, careless undergrad. Second, the age group is closer to mine. I'm not the oldest hag! But this also means that the students tend to be more aggressive in their ambition. Third, it's a sausage fest! If I were a single gal, let me tell you, I'd be marketing myself to be the trophy wife of the next up-and-coming entrepreneur. But because I am very happy with my man who is far far away in Chicago, I try to speak up in the 92% male-dominated class and challenge some of the thick-headed men so as to gain respect and not seem like the dumb girl in class.
Because there are so many dudes (I'm one of two women in a class), the class discussions are pretty entertaining and at times just plain chauvinistic. The conversations also tend to digress into weird tangents. For example, yesterday a a real estate development case study analysis discussion went into parking requirements, which lead to taking about Prof. Donald Shoup, the parking policy master, which turned into the class, professor included, singing a Salt-N-Pepa song.