I met with a customer today for coffee and monkey bread at City Bakery, a still-trendy bakery here in Manhattan where ladies who brunch still come for their nibbles, $4 cookies and monkey bread, and fancy lattes and cappuccinos. As we sat and caught up, I presented her with a baby gift for her soon-to-arrive baby boy due in just two weeks’ time. She works in the fashion industry and is always incredibly well put together, all the way down to her accessories. She’s the kind of woman who always looks like she barely even tries to look as fashionable as she does; it just seems to come naturally to her. Some of us, like myself, actually have to try.

She told me that she’s been lucky in that she’s had a relatively easy pregnancy, especially after the first trimester, when she felt nauseated all the time. But since then, she’s really enjoyed the entire experience. “Everyone is just constantly willing to give up their seat for me, help me with my bags or anything I’m carrying, or make space for me!” she exclaimed. Even at Whole Foods, if you’re pregnant or pushing around a stroller, apparently you can bypass the line and get rung up right away, she learned and shared with me. She said she’s really going to miss all these pregnancy perks after she’s given birth.

I never even though about that when I think about the concept of being pregnant. But part of me felt a little cynical in that, would I get the same preferential/deferential treatment that she gets as a relatively attractive, tall, slim white woman who is visibly pregnant? White women in general will always get treated better than any women of color. It’s a frustrating question to contemplate in my reality.

When I lived in San Francisco and attended schools that had what felt like anywhere between 40-60 percent Asian students, I never really thought much about race, whether it was that of the people around me or my own. When you’re surrounded by people who look just like you, race is not an obvious thing to think about because your world is more or less homogenous. Race becomes something you think about when you are the minority, when you are the one who stands out or is different than the rest. Because of that, when I am in work meetings, whether it’s onsite with a customer or in group meetings where a lot of our leadership team is present, I’m always deathly aware of not only my race, but also my gender. Oftentimes, I am the only person of color in a room, and in addition, I am oftentimes one of very few if any women in the room. It’s not uncommon for me to be sitting at a conference table fully surrounded by white men.

I was telling this to my manager, who is leaving the organization soon for another role. He’s ethnically Chinese but born and raised in Ohio, which is obviously a very white part of the country. He was surprised. “Really? Wow. I never really think about that that much when I’m in meetings,” he said. “But to be fair, you do have a lot of customers in the South.”

While that’s true, our company is headquartered in San Francisco, which is not in the south. I work out of our New York City office, where everyone who is considered a member of the leadership team is white and male. Plus, it’s strange to me that he, as an Asian male from a very white part of this country, would not think much about race, given that he would have stuck out as a minority where he is originally from. It’s the exact opposite mindset of what I would have assumed.

It’s a luxury to never have to think about race and gender. But that luxury usually belongs to the white males of the world, doesn’t it? And I suppose in this case, it also applies to just males of the world who may have been predominantly surrounded by white males, so then he suddenly becomes race-blind, as well?

Tonight, we had a farewell dinner and karaoke night to send off our colleague and my boss, who is leaving us for another tech company. While stuffing my face with barbecued pork belly and ribeye and getting my throat sore once again from all the belted singing at Karaoke City, I reveled once again in what a good crew I have at work. At my last job, I was always waiting to leave. I didn’t want to spend any time outside of work to see anyone off ever. Happy hours? Forget it. You’d never see me there, and I always made up some excuse. Here, it actually is fun to spend time with colleagues outside of work and to do silly things like karaoke together. And funnily enough, as I was having these thoughts, I was reminded that the last company I was at just had a massive layoff where so many of the people I despised got let go. It’s amazing they are still even in existence as a company given how unethical, sexist, and racist they were. But I will say…. Schadenfreude. Mmmm, that tastes good.

A colleague who has recently joined my team is probably one of the bluntest people I’ve ever met in the workplace. She has very little filter on her, but I actually kind of appreciate it. She was venting to me the other day that all sales people are just phony and opportunistic, that they rarely do anything to help you unless they expect something from you.

While there is some grain of truth to that, it would be nice if that person proactively offered to do something beneficial for you first. I’ve felt like I can’t really have a relationship with any sales person that is just because they want to know me or stay in touch me. The case in point is a call I had today with a former colleague, also in sales, who was in a sales role here and is now doing sales at another company. Out of the blue, she texted me last week to ask how I was doing, to catch up…. and of course, that she heard I was working on a certain brand she was prospecting and wanted to get some information from me. From the outset, when you meet her, you do think she is genuinely kind and well, genuine. But there’s always something else that she wants from you other than just to “catch up.”

I’m still waiting to meet a sales person who I can say is just a truly good, well meaning, and not opportunistic person.