Selective Service – Women in the Draft

So, there I was, driving that little Yellow Cab. It was early morning and the end of an otherwise fruitless, unremarkable night. Traffic was picking up but it was a good last pull out to the airport. My fare was a young woman of about 22 years of age. With the dawning sun still troubling my eyes, I said goodnight to the smokey-voiced mulatto dispatcher (the one men often asked about) and turned off the Two-Way Radio and tuned in the AM-FM to a morning drive-time News and Talk Radio Show. They were talking about the drafting of women.

Peering through the rearview mirror I asked my fare how she felt about women being drafted into the army.

She replied: “That’s not exactly what I had in mind.”

I thought to say: “You never had anything in mind at all except what was put there by television” – But I kept my peace.

Upon arrival at the airport, I started unloading the trunk only to get into a verbal tussle and a bit of a tug-o’-war over the lady’s luggage with an angry Redcap who claimed to be “union” and was obviously desperate for tips.

About The Twentieth Man

Age 69
This entry was posted in Capitalism, For Feminists, Government, Mass Media, Personal History, Plain English, Politics, Short Stories, Veterans and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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