If you asked me at the time. I would never have thought I was attractive. My mother saw to it that any self-esteem I had was done away with. However, someone forgot to tell the boys in California that. I had crushes in school, but I never had any delusions of dating them. I think my timidness must have scarred off any potential dates. That must have been the case because for the first time in my life, I had to shrug off some of the attention I was beginning to get from men.

      At the time I thought the catcalling from the construction workers was a bit embarrassing. I must say I miss it now. Looking back at it I guess I  was what you could call pretty. My hair was dark brown almost black and shoulder length. In the style of the Hollywood actors of the time. I was almost 5 foot 6 at the time. Which my slanted older body now views as tall. Most of all. I was quite thin. I could fit into any dress I tried on. Man, those were the days.

       And the job. What an experience that was. I worked for a contracting agency that began me working as a telephone operator. I once connected a call for John Wayne. Can you believe it? I talked to the DUKE himself. It was for about a second, but I still did... With all that said. Mr Wayne's good looks paled in comparison to a certain Vietnam soldier who would enter my life in a little over a year. But first, my older step-sister would have to get married.
       "Hello, this is Lynne Mckenzie". I said as I answered the phone. Enjoying the little time off I had at the time. The sun rays were flourishing through the small kitchen window of my very small California apartment, and I intended to soak up every single one of them. My English heritage didn't do me any favors amognst the tan hotties I occasionally shared beach space with. You see, I didn't have a lot of time for leisure activities. The recruiting agency I worked for kept me on my toes with various jobs. First I was a telephone operator. Then I worked as an office administrator at a Law Firm. Can you believe they fired me because they thought my sweater vest was too revealing?

      How can a sweater be too revealing? Anyway, about 6 months into my life in California. I began working working for a local magazine. Mostly more office work. Keeping track of paperwork and taking calls for the publisher. Pretty much the kind of thing I had been training for since I was 12 or 13.
 "Lynne, this is Sue," said the other voice on the line. Sue being my elder half-sister.
 "Oh, Sue how are things"? I responded, there was barely a moment of hesitation when in response she all but shouted.
       "I'm getting married!" I was a bit taken aback. I had some vague idea she was dating someone, but I had no idea it was serious.
       "When?" I said, that being the only thing I could think to say.
       "Next month", Sue responded to my question. I was aghast. Not out of pity or judgment, but my fiercely independent step-sister getting married. Life really is full of surprises. 
        After much talk that I don't recollect. I found myself hanging up the phone after promising I wouldn't miss it. Once I had moved out of the stifling apartment in Chicago, and got away from my parents. I found that all of my step-siblings disliked our mother, and we sort of formed a bit of a bond because of it.

      "I'm going to have to buy something to wear".

      I had an all too familiar twinge in my side as the thought occurred. After all, just because my job was interesting. Didn't mean it paid well. I decided that this would require drastic measures. After I said my goodbyes to Sue. I got on the phone with my boss and requested overtime.

      It's not that I didn't like working. It's just working overtime when there were so many other cool things to do. Really depressed me. I mean, I was living in California. I was supposed to be the princess who escaped the evil stepmother and was going to meet my Prince Charming. In my more contemplative moments, I realized that this bothered me more than I would have liked to admit. 

      I mean, after all, Cinderella had all those animals to help with the chores, and Snow White had all those dwarves. My extra help came in the form of ten more hours a week handling, filing, occasionally proofreading, and directing office work at the magazine publishers. Just so I could afford a nice dress. 

      "Well, I guess that's why they call it work. If it was easy everyone would do it".

      I picked up the phone and dialed the office.

      "Mr. Andrews this is Lynne". I said into the receiver.

      "Ah Lynne," said my manager. He was a pathologically jovial man who I never saw enter or leave the publisher's office.         

      "That's editors for you." 

      "Mr. Andrews, would you mind if I worked a few extra hours this week and the next? I have a wedding I  need to attend next month?"

      "Ah, so I'm assuming you'll need some time off as well?" He asked not missing a beat.

      "Dang it, first mistake. I should have leaned into that. The first rule of negotiations is to never let them guess your next move."

      "Will there be any need for extended leave?" he asked patiently.

      "What a weird thing to ask." 

      As I pondered the question I  realized he was asking if it was my own wedding. Followed by a honeymoon.

      "Um no sir," I responded timidly. "Just the first weekend of next month".

      "Well then, I'm sure it will happen eventually. As for the time off and overtime. Shouldn't be a problem."

      "Thank you, sir, have a good day." With that, I hung up the phone. 

      "That is editors for you. Not afraid to ask anything."

      And just like that, I had the time off and the extra hours. I decided that I would treat myself to something nice. That is once I had the funds to treat myself to something nice.  I sighed at the extra work I would need to do, and the corners I would have to cut in my daily life. I was already a penny pincher. 

      "I guess I'm a penny enforcer now". 

      This was one of many thoughts I had walking up the street to my apartment. After a very long first day of overtime. 

      I was determined to ring all of the worth I could out of every penny. I opened up the fridge to look at what goodies were in there. Realizing that for the next couple of weeks. It would be mostly cheap TV dinners, and if treats were to be had. They would be cheap supermarket varieties and not the freshly made pastries at any number of shops I passed on my way to and from work.

      It was at this moment I began to realize just how privileged my life was becoming. Compared to my old life in Chicago. I was living downright luxuriously. My apartment was small, but it was clean and most of all quiet. I decided then that going a few weeks without the delicious pound cake, I was quickly forming a reliance on, wouldn't be that hard.

      "Rumble, Rumble" My stomach appeared to have a slight problem with this new declaration."

      "There's no reason I can't enjoy one more piece of cake".

       My mind made up, I headed to the bakery. After one piece of chocolate pound cake was ordered and served. I found myself sitting outside wondering what dress I would buy. 

      There was a boutique just across the street. With a mannequin in the window. They must have been proud of the price because it was fairly well advertised. I could see from here that it had its fair share of zeroes.

      "So not that one"

      I smiled as I made the rather irrational connection that cake seemed to help in my decision-making process. As I was walking back home I found myself feeling a sense of pride at the life I had started, but it still felt as if something was missing.

      "It'll give you something to think about as you spend extra hours in the office"

      At that point in my youth. I was relatively carefree, perhaps because I was finally free of my mother's grasp, or perhaps I had always been more outgoing than I gave myself credit for. My lack of any dating experience seemed to contradict that idea. Even though I was now almost 20 and living in my 2nd big city. I seemed to be living a relatively solitary existence.

      It didn't matter. I was ready and motivated. 

      "I think I earned another piece of cake... No Lynne stay focused. You need to save money."

      I pulled my head down and walked faster. I had never had any extra money before. Not even a single penny I earned at my part-time job as a teenager was spared. It all went to clothes, school supplies, transportation, and making sure myself and parents had food to eat. So I had never had to fight back temptation.

      "This is harder than I thought it would be".

      I had just picked up my head for the 3rd time. Thinking about one more slice, and how it wouldn't break the bank.

      "Correction, Much harder than I thought".

       That night I went over my expenses. This dress that I hadn't even found yet. Seemed to be very special to me for some reason that I couldn't figure out. At the time all I could work out was that it was indeed special.

      After deducting the cost of two pieces of chocolate pound cake from today's expenditures I found that tomorrow's dinner would certainly have to be a cheap TV dinner. 

      "Well, you win some you lose some. Marie Antoinette's subjects didn't let being broke stop them from eating cake. Why should I?"     

      I went to sleep with a plan in mind and dreamed of marriage. Though strangely I don't recall the woman getting married in my dream looking like my sister.