Citizen Girl by Emma McLaughlin Page B

issue on deck is what’s going to bring in the Ms. woman; this is an incredible opportunity for everyone here. Incredible.’ He slaps the top of his chair arms. ‘Girl?’
    ‘Yes.’ I nod enthusiastically, eager for details. ‘Absolutely.’
    ‘Right. Girl, take it away!’
    Everyone turns expectantly. I flash to the dream where I’m taking the biochemistry final, never enrolled in the class, and am naked.
    ‘Well … I assume you’re all familiar with the Ms. community.’
    ‘Me?’ Angel asks.
    ‘You mean online?’ Matt asks.
    ‘No,’ I correct him politely, ‘I mean real-life, their readers.’ Blank looks all around. So totally butt naked. Guy’s cell rings and he blessedly steps out, leaving me to flail unobserved. ‘Well, let’s see, from what I know, these readers are politically savvy, socially active, and vested in gender equity across the board. So if you were them —’
    ‘Who?’ Angel interrupts.
    ‘The Ms. readers.’
    ‘If we were women, you mean,’ Joe helps me out.
    ‘Yes! Yes, if you were a woman who fit the description I’ve just given —’
    ‘Did Guy say how long we had to be here?’ Stan hooks a lackadaisical finger through the neck of the tee escaping from his Oxford collar. ‘’Cause I have a dentist appointment.’
    Joe stands, his knees cracking, and lifts the whiteboard from the floor to the table with a thud. He writes ‘WOMEN’ in squeaky felt-tipped strokes. The others stare at me.
    ‘Maybe we should approach this in the reverse.’ I look from male face to male face. Stan glances obviously at his watch. ‘What aspects of My Company do you think would particularly appeal to the type of women I described?’
    ‘The bathrooms!’ Angel perks up. ‘We give free tampons.’
    ‘We do?’ Matt asks. ‘We don’t have anything free in the men’s room.’
    ‘Maybe let’s focus on content. How do we take all the information on beauty and health that our company has to offer –’ my heart misses a beat at the proprietary ‘our’ – ‘and leverage it to capture the typical Ms. reader?’
    Silence. Matt shoots Stan a look. Perhaps they’re fomenting a rebellion to get free condoms into the men’s room.
    ‘Okay, whadda we got?’ Guy returns and swiftly takes in the empty white board and silent group.
    ‘Sorry, Guy, bit of confusion here,’ Joe explains.‘Maybe it would grease the wheels if you speak to what MC wants from the Ms. woman.’ Thank you.
    Guy sighs in exasperation, tugging at the skin on the bridge of his nose.
    ‘Totally unnecessary,’ Stan says, suddenly animated. ‘As you were saying, Girl.’
    ‘Right,’ I scramble, ‘you know, examining what interests the Ms. Magazine crowd … culture, politics, social issues … basically the agenda of many social service organizations.’ Whitneywhitneywhitneywhitney. ‘So, maybe we could reach out to those organizations dedicated to serving women, find out how what they’re researching can benefit from our expertise.’ Whatever the fuck that is.
    ‘Go on.’ Guy leans forward on the balls of his feet as I offer the one professional notch on my belt.
    ‘I’m thinking My Company should sponsor a conference, get these organizations together, and … tap their brains.’ I flash to approaching Doris’s wiry curls with an ice pick.
    Guy claps twice and smiles broadly. ‘I love it.’ You do?
    Taking their cue, Stan and Joe stand. ‘Awesome,’ Matt yawns.
    ‘Awesome.’ Angel makes a beeline for the door.
    ‘Yes,’ I smile, feeling the unfamiliar flush of acknowledged competence. ‘Let’s leverage what they know.’
    ‘Sure, awesome.’ Stan follows Matt out, with Guy bringing up the rear.
    ‘Excellent, just excellent,’ he says. ‘Thanks for coming. Got time for a bite? I’m starved.’
    ‘Yes, me, too, starved.’ For. A. Job.
    ‘That was great,’ he says, dialing.
    ‘Thanks, I couldn’t be more intrigued by this initiative.’
    ‘Great. Let me just grab my coat.’
    Guy