Main Character

Kathleen Milewski

Tick-tock tick-tock. A woman turns her head scanning the job agency waiting room, taking into account the outfits and makeup of the other women around her sitting in the scratchy chairs. She thinks about how she felt almost like a beauty queen pageant contestant waiting to be called on by the judges, giving her best answer to whatever they were going to ask her in there while being judged by the other women around her. She’d spent two hours in the local mall with her friend getting manicures, their hair styled, and the perfect outfit to show that she’s business oriented but also likes to have fun. She squirms in the uncomfortable hard green chair, crossing and uncrossing her legs, the women drags down her plaid skirt over her dark silken covered knees while puffing herself up in front of the competition around her. She was feeling young and in charge, confidence flowing through her as she sat in the green polyester seat, crossing and uncrossing her nylon legs as she waits. Tick-tock tick

“Mary,” a voice calls from the counter. “Mary Woods, you can go see the agent now.”

She breaths a deep sigh and stands up, with her hair stuck in a statuesque position and her double plaid blazer embracing her shoulders. She walks through the aisle of chairs, giving a cheeky smirk to one of the woman she passes. She feels like the winner of Miss America 1998, Katherine Shindle, as she walks up to the front desk to receive back her resume.

Mary walks into the office and sees a man with dark chocolate colored hair and beard seasoned with ash strands. His hazel eyes staring down at a translucent blue iMac computer with a copy of Friends windows 95 video guide propped up next to the monitor.

“Wow, that’s so impressive. I haven’t seen that new model of a personal computer before! You know outside of a daytime commercial before, the last piece of new technology I got to really use was a Commodore 64 at my last job.”

“Thank you Mrs. Woods. It is the latest model of computer the company could afford, not that it will matter in about two years though with the upcoming Y2K going to hit soon.” Click-a-click-a “I assume that’s why a women of around your age has come in today right? To get a job and prepare yourself and family for the millennium?” the agent asks.

“Well not quite, I’m not to sure what Y2K is to be honest? It’s just I took some time off to look after myself for a bit but I’m ready to get back to work.” Mary hands over her resume with a confident look to the agent. His eyebrows furrow a bit as his fingers tap on the keyboard.

“Well Mrs. Woods I’m sorry to say this but you don’t have enough work experience for someone of your age to find a professional job here ma’am. Your work experience is almost 15 years old currently.” he says while looking at her with melancholy eyes. “The times are changing now with the new millennium approaching and this just isn’t enough experience to stay applicable in the workplace anymore. I’m sorry,” he says shaking his head while setting the worthless piece of paper in front of her.

***

She remembers back to the last decade when she last felt like a working girl. She was younger then. Her nicer body had landed her a romantic relationship with her boss at the bank where she worked. Later on they would get married, have a kid, and quit her cubicle job to become a common housewife, spending her days cleaning the house and watching shows like Designing Women, Night Court, and Different Strokes on the television to pass the time. A couple of months turned into years as father time treated her body roughly and turned her once sharp mind dull.

***

tic-tock -tick-tock-

A wave of a bitter-sweet reality crashes over her in this moment. She isn’t Jennifer Aniston, Elaine Benes, or Fran Drescher, because she wasn’t a young main character anymore. There’s no Mister Sheffield in a big house and kids waiting for her at home or silly roommates doing shenanigans to be there for her to talk about how her job went.

No, she thought to herself. There’s just an empty house with the only evidence of people being there is the canned laughter and conversation leaving the TV speakers as she waits for her husband to come home from the bank or her now adult son to call with news from college.

Click-a-click-a-click-

“So, Miss Woods, if there’s nothing else you need today. . ."

“Oh, um, no, thank you though,” she says awkwardly.

Bending over to pick up her purse and leave the agent exclaims, “Oh,” and snaps his fingers, “Julia Roberts. You know from that movie Pretty Woman that’s who you look like to me.”  In that moment it felt as if someone took a sewing needle to her ego balloon.

"Huh, well you know just as Tess said in the movie, I’ve got a head for business–”

In that moment the intercom buzz cuts her off. “Delilah, my next applicant please.”