"I'm independent and confident," I said.
I wear makeup, my mother wore makeup, my grandma did the same, and her mother and grandmother and everyone before her, all wore makeup. It's beginning to get more expensive, and times are hard, but I'll be damned if I don't live just like my mother did and continue the lineage. We're all prestigious, intellectual, industrious, and most of all, beautiful, and I will be looking my best for every damn thing that hits me. I'm a lady. A lady who can do anything a man can do. In my opinion, every girl should wear makeup, it's not about natural beauty or fake beauty, just about being beautiful and confident. It gives me a glow of confidence when I'm really constantly just afraid. Afraid of everything life throws at me, yet ready, in this one way. I'm just Lana.
"I'm strong and can handle a large workload, as much as a man could," I said to him.
"Impressive," he remarked, "but I'd need to see that before giving you a job. You realize in this day and age, especially here, it's easier to believe a man who talks about accomplishments than it is a woman, right? Because I've seen more men in this workplace who can handle large amounts of work, but women here, not so much."
I gritted my teeth. He's not a bad guy, he's right, but he irks me. I'm different from probably any other woman he's employed, I do my work and look good doing it. I tugged my sleeve down and tried to look appropriate. No man would hire a woman with a tattoo.
"I get how it is here, sir. I can handle it, and I can show you if you give me the opportunity."
"We'll see. For now, go home, put your curlers in, and get a good rest. I'll consider hiring you, but I've got more people to consider, like the men coming in from the south looking for new jobs."
I nodded and walked out.
