best friends were at odds. They both were peculiarly interested in her life. Jane seemed to feel that every woman should be burning her bra while climbing mountains—both of these things made Carol shudder—while Mary was in the unpleasant position of already having to climb mountains in order to survive—and she wasn’t feeling very liberated by it.
“Come on,” replied Jane. “She sets her clock by the man. ‘Oh dear, is it four o’clock already!’” she mimicked. “‘I had better get home to Harvey!’”
“Well, what of it?” interjected Mary. “Don’t the rest of us punch a time clock, too? I recall mentioning that I have to get back to the office.”
This dispute might have gone back and forth in this way throughout their lunch if Carol had not abruptly interrupted them.
“Do you girls think I’m wasting my life with Harvey?” she asked.
They were both so unused to Carol sounding uncertain about anything, that they at first only stared at her, stunned. Then both of them answered at once.
“Yes,” said Jane.
“No,” said Mary.
“Do you think you’re wasting your life?” asked Jane, excited by the prospect of Carol reaching the epiphany Jane felt she should reach.
“Well…I have wondered lately,” Carol admitted.
“What could you have done without Harvey that you haven’t done with him?” Mary asked her sensibly. “Or, even more importantly, what would you do without Harvey?”
“I don’t know,” replied Carol. “Maybe I would become a waitress.”
“In that case, I think I would blow Harvey tonight,” Mary told her.
“Oh, that’s nice, Mary,” Jane said. “Encourage her to further subjugate herself to him.”
“Do you have any idea how much ass Carol would have to kiss to get the same kind of cash from waiting on tables that she gets from Harvey?” Mary asked her.
“Money isn’t everything,” said Jane piously.
“It isn’t?” Both Mary and Carol asked this at once.
“No!” said Jane haughtily. “It’s about self-respect.”
“How much self-respect do you suppose that waitress has while putting up with our shit?” Mary asked her, forgetting for the moment her own earlier resentment for the waitress. “Or, for that matter, how much self-respect does a working mother have, when she is guilted into showing up for work instead of staying home with her sick child? Or a secretary who is browbeaten into picking up her boss’s laundry?”
“Self-respect comes from within a person,” said Jane in a sanctimonious tone. She had that untouchable sense of correctness that was as formidable as any religious faith. “You just know you are doing the right thing because you are doing it yourself. Self-respect comes out of that.”
“Mmm,” thought Mary. “You mean like when you borrowed money from Daddy to start up your business?”
“That is entirely different!” stormed Jane, becoming overly defensive all of a sudden. The vehemence of her tone caused Carol and Mary to exchange glances. Getting help from her father for the business had always been a sore spot for Jane, but lately any mention of her business at all seemed to have the power to upset her. They watched as Jane gulped down half her drink in an effort to compose herself. When she put down her glass she frowned at Mary. “I did not have to subjugate myself to my father for that.”
“Perhaps not, but you can hardly sit there bragging that you did it entirely on your own, either,” replied Mary in a gentler tone. “And besides, when did sex with the hubby become subjugation? Some of us would be pretty happy for a husband to screw right about now.” Mary had a very simple and explicit viewpoint on things, and the reasoning of a woman who spent years being single and struggling on her own. Though she tried forming relationships with men again and again, she had never been able to capture the attention of one long enough to retrieve any sense of security or strength from him, let alone to
“Come on,” replied Jane. “She sets her clock by the man. ‘Oh dear, is it four o’clock already!’” she mimicked. “‘I had better get home to Harvey!’”
“Well, what of it?” interjected Mary. “Don’t the rest of us punch a time clock, too? I recall mentioning that I have to get back to the office.”
This dispute might have gone back and forth in this way throughout their lunch if Carol had not abruptly interrupted them.
“Do you girls think I’m wasting my life with Harvey?” she asked.
They were both so unused to Carol sounding uncertain about anything, that they at first only stared at her, stunned. Then both of them answered at once.
“Yes,” said Jane.
“No,” said Mary.
“Do you think you’re wasting your life?” asked Jane, excited by the prospect of Carol reaching the epiphany Jane felt she should reach.
“Well…I have wondered lately,” Carol admitted.
“What could you have done without Harvey that you haven’t done with him?” Mary asked her sensibly. “Or, even more importantly, what would you do without Harvey?”
“I don’t know,” replied Carol. “Maybe I would become a waitress.”
“In that case, I think I would blow Harvey tonight,” Mary told her.
“Oh, that’s nice, Mary,” Jane said. “Encourage her to further subjugate herself to him.”
“Do you have any idea how much ass Carol would have to kiss to get the same kind of cash from waiting on tables that she gets from Harvey?” Mary asked her.
“Money isn’t everything,” said Jane piously.
“It isn’t?” Both Mary and Carol asked this at once.
“No!” said Jane haughtily. “It’s about self-respect.”
“How much self-respect do you suppose that waitress has while putting up with our shit?” Mary asked her, forgetting for the moment her own earlier resentment for the waitress. “Or, for that matter, how much self-respect does a working mother have, when she is guilted into showing up for work instead of staying home with her sick child? Or a secretary who is browbeaten into picking up her boss’s laundry?”
“Self-respect comes from within a person,” said Jane in a sanctimonious tone. She had that untouchable sense of correctness that was as formidable as any religious faith. “You just know you are doing the right thing because you are doing it yourself. Self-respect comes out of that.”
“Mmm,” thought Mary. “You mean like when you borrowed money from Daddy to start up your business?”
“That is entirely different!” stormed Jane, becoming overly defensive all of a sudden. The vehemence of her tone caused Carol and Mary to exchange glances. Getting help from her father for the business had always been a sore spot for Jane, but lately any mention of her business at all seemed to have the power to upset her. They watched as Jane gulped down half her drink in an effort to compose herself. When she put down her glass she frowned at Mary. “I did not have to subjugate myself to my father for that.”
“Perhaps not, but you can hardly sit there bragging that you did it entirely on your own, either,” replied Mary in a gentler tone. “And besides, when did sex with the hubby become subjugation? Some of us would be pretty happy for a husband to screw right about now.” Mary had a very simple and explicit viewpoint on things, and the reasoning of a woman who spent years being single and struggling on her own. Though she tried forming relationships with men again and again, she had never been able to capture the attention of one long enough to retrieve any sense of security or strength from him, let alone to
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