I've been very lucky so far to be able to participate in jams around Nashville with a minimum of dismissive douchiness, even though I'm a female drummer and not a professional musician. On most Wednesdays I go to a bar not far from my house, and the owner of the bar runs a really nice, open jam that welcomes anyone regardless of ability, experience, etc. The owner's out of town right now, so he invited a very talented local guitar player to fill in for him, and tonight was my first bad experience. When he FINALLY started inviting drummers who weren't the guy who plays in his band (open jam sin #1 - hogging the stage and making people with day jobs wait all night to play), he hollered to me, "Honey, we'll do one more song and then get you up." When he finally did, he was all, "Come on up and play some drums, honey." By this time I was annoyed, and I had also been whipped into a bit of a huff by a friend who was with me, so as I walked to the stage, I told him my name wasn't "honey." So instantly he gets indignant, because clearly I have a problem, a big-ass feminazi chip on my shoulder. "Hey, I'm sorry, I don't know your name. What is it?" So I tell him. And then I instantly regret having protested. So I fall back on a joke. "But you can call me Sweet Thang." Because I don't have the right to object to dumbass sexism because I'll be called a feminazi or, yes, a Humorless Lesbian. It worked, because all the boys had a big laugh and maybe they don't think I'm a man-hating bulldyke. We got through the first song ("Johnny B. Goode" without a proper warmup is a bit of a workout), and my friend, who is very attractive, came to the stage to bring me my beer. So of course the asshole guitar player had to say something disrespectful to her as well. "You gonna bring me a drink too, sweetheart?" Her: "Nope." "Aw, c'mon, I'll give you a great tip." Jeez-US. I played three songs and then, because I wanted another friend of mine to get a chance to play before the asshole brings his friend up again, I kinda yell, "Hey, sweet cheeks" to him to get his attention. I make kissy noises. When he finally turns around I urge him to invite my buddy up to play, and I leave the stage. The friend who was with me was DYING laughing. We left soon afterward. So my friend is urging me to say something to the owner about his fill-in jam host, and I'm resisting. Even though the owner runs a great jam, I don't want him to think I'm a bad sport whenever someone misbehaves just a tad. Luckily this guy really sucked in a lot of other ways, so hopefully word will get back to the owner not to hire him again. At most, I may send the owner a Facebook message telling him that I really appreciate the respectful, generous and inclusive way he runs his jams and I look forward to his return. Maybe he'll get the hint that my experience with the other guy wasn't altogether positive. I don't know why I posted this - just wanted to get it off my chest, I guess. AND WHAT A CHEST, AMIRITE?