Hormones spike my feminism...

After ordering all the pizzas off of Barro's online menu that I think sound tantalizing for our office birthday celebration lunch;

co-worker (male) (it's important later): So what didja get?
me: Um, the Special, chicken supreme, half barbeque half white, mega meat, and pepperoni with 3 dozen wings.
co-worker: Whoa, so you ordered pizza for...men.
me: [stunned silence]
co-worker: No offense.

Shut your face, no pizza for you.

I'm not even the most sensitive feminist you'll run into but really?? And yeah, I had 6 pieces, what of it?

Do it.

Try and dictate what kind of pizza I can eat

because I have boobs. 

I dare you.

Yeah, yeah, you're all big strong scary men and need the meatiest pizza 

to fortify your testosterone filled meat bags for bodies. 

I'm sure you're completely well-endowed.

Calm yourself.