Courting Destiny

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3WW–grimace, phase, stumble—Space Chick with the Electric Hair, a memoir– a very small part

By

As always thanks Thom for the 3WW words
late summer, 1970–Park Avenue South, NY NY

My job was tedious. I checked ads in all major East Coast newspapers but the New York Times for accuracy. The regular employees were laid off for the summer, and college students hired. Boys were paid $80 a week and girls $75. I didn’t consider myself a feminist but I thought that absurd and asked the owner why there was a disparity. He looked at me as if I were stupid:
Boys need the extra money to take girls out.

I had a boyfriend. I don’t think we had been on one real date in the almost two years we had been seeing each other on and off.

Everybody else would grimace when doing the work. Except for the pay disparity, and the bells that went off to signify beginning and ends of breaks, lunch and the workday, I loved it. Essentially I was paid to read newspapers. The Manchester Union Leader, Manchester, New Hampshire was my favorite. A typical headline read “Hippie boy spotted walking through town.” Sub headline, “hippies not wanted here.” The newspaper loved President Nixon and the war in Viet Nam. People in New York who were pro war weren’t this uncouth. Well the only person I knew well who was pro war was my father. Being the father of two daughters and a former Communist turned capitalist he was classier, at least in public.

In private, my father spent a lot of time grimacing and yelling. He called my friends and I freaks. I was proud that he knew the word though later I realized he didn’t mean it in the way we used it. He couldn’t wait for this phase of my life to be over.

I had friends at work and friends from college. Officially I was living at my parents house on Long Island. Unofficially I was living on many couches in the city and some on the Island where I went to school. After work we would walk down to the East Village where everybody seemed to live in tenements that smelled of Lysol, cat pee and cabbage soup. Every apartment looked the same with mattresses on the floor covered by Indian print bedspreads and a bean bag chair or tables and chairs found on the street.

After an evening spent smoking joints and drinking cheap wine we would stumble into some apartment. The wine made me sick so I stuck to joints. It helped me sleep in strange beds and use bathrooms that weren’t always clean.

I wanted my boyfriend but he wasn’t in New York for the summer. I settled for whoever was closest.

Comments

  3. Witless Exposition says

    “Being the father of two daughters and a former Communist turned capitalist he was classier, at least in public.”

    Favorite line!

    Like the slight train of thought style, and the specific details thrown in (Indian bedspreads, the names of the papers, etc.)

  4. ThomG says

    I really like the flow of this the feelings that come out from your writing. there’s just so much emotion in it, raw at times, gritty. I felt like I could seethe whole scene unfold.

    I truly love it when you come back to play at 3WW

  5. RS Bohn says

    This piece is all about atmosphere, and you pulled it off very well. Like someone else said, it was like time travel, man.

    Well done.

  6. asuqi says

    You paint a very clear picture here and even though I´ve never lived a life similar to the one described, I´m left feeling nostalgic. I really liked this.

  11. pia says

    @RS Bohn
    Thanks. I should put more dialogue in but something like this is so short–I want to paint a word picture and atmosphere is easiest

  19. Bone says

    He couldn’t wait for this phase of my life to be over.

    Great line delving into not only your relationship with your father but probably lots of parent/child relationships.

    Liked the apartment description as well. And the boys need more money explanation. Never heard/read that one before. It’s probably better than most.

    Just a well-told story.

  20. Bone says

    Also, on the post above this one, I’d go with Savannah. With Dinah being my second choice. Delilah’s too… Biblical. And Dinah’s too… blow your horn-y 🙂

    Well that didn’t sound right at the end there.

  21. pia says

    @Bone
    You sick Bone–last line–but funny.

    He really did say that. I was shocked as people I knew didn’t date. We hung out. Alone. Together. With crowds but then alone. Together. We did things in packs. In many ways we were like today’s kids.

    I thought the apartment description too generic myself.

    Thanks for the rest.

    And I love Dinah but probably will go with Savannah. Savannah Savage. Nice ring.

  25. pia says

    I was going for a version of Courting that was really more me. While my walls are colorful, my clothes tend to be white, black any combo of, gray, and the like

  28. Sage says

    Nice piece taking us back in time… Your comments are off for the post above, and I wanted to comment on your name for your pinup… Don’t call her Dinah. Ever since I was a kid, I’ve always wanted to know what was going on with Dinah in the kitchen of the train (I’ve been working on the railroad). You’re pinup doesn’t look like the type of girl to make out in a greasy kitchen! 🙂