Pro Choice

Malinda walked into the poll booth and cast her ballot. She voted as she always did - along party lines - all Democrat. Malinda was not only pro choice, the right to choose was really the only political issue that mattered to her. She didn't have much time to research the other candidates anyway. She had a very busy life.

She walked out of the community center, got in her 1983 Ford Escort, and drove to the Krow Bar where she worked as a waiter. She had worked the same job for five years and was a pro. The regulars all tipped her well, and even came to the Krow Bar instead of a neighboring restaurant because she was there. At the end of her shift she pulled off some of her tips to share with her busser, then drove to the grocery store.

Every week it was the same, Barney the cashier had assembled her bag for her already. It was always the same stuff too - ramen, flour, sugar, diapers, baby food...all generic. This week she pulled two packages of ramen noodles out of the bag and placed them on the counter. She counted out the exact change, a little less than usual, and handed it to Barney.

She stopped at the gas station and filled her car with 4.7 gallons. Then it was over to Fran's house to pick up the kids. Jack and Jan ran out to the car and jumped into the back seat as Malinda pulled off a couple twenties from her roll of cash.

The next morning she drove the kids to school on her way back to the Krow Bar. Malinda enrolled them in the public school across town rather than the one a block away. The drive was in the same direction as the Krow Bar, and after school the kids would be able to walk to Fran's house. It was a routine that worked well.

One cold February day she asked if she could leave early. It was a slow afternoon, so the bar owner said it was alright. Malinda picked up a folder full of papers and walked across the street to the library. She approached the front desk, talked to the librarian, and then sat down at one of the computers that sat in a long row against the back wall. After a few minutes she opened her folder and began entering the information into the fields on her screen. Mortgage interest, expenses, dependents, wages, tips. She noticed she was being taxed on her income from tips, and consequently her return was going to be smaller than she expected. It didn't seem that the government had a right to take extra money she had been given for her good service. She completed the forms, sent them to the Internal Revenue Service, walked out of the library, and drove to Fran's house.

That night she opened a package of ramen noodles, broke it in half, and put it in the bowl of water and placed it in the microwave. She could have chosen to eat the whole thing like she usually did, but tonight she chose not to.

ramen