From a Feminist’s Friend
“I'm not some helpless girl that you need to go out of your way to make my life easier.” “OK. Duly noted.” “Good. Now you're staying up late with me. I've to put in 2k words before morning and I haven't even begun yet.” “But…” “Shut up. Go watch a movie and let me write. I'll call you when I'm done.” Sigh. It’s amusing to be friends with a feminist. Or to be politically correct as my friend would want, it’s amusing to be this feminist’s friend. Because it’s a live one woman show of ebony and ivory. A humorous display of yin and yang. Or simply put, a paradox. And this is about all the reasons why. My camaraderie with her began during an internship. A bunch of young kids, from a college with too many restrictions, we were thrown together into the corporate world and suddenly were being treated like sensible adults! We were housed in the same hotel, with no chaperons. We tasted freedom like we never had before. And in this happy a