APPLICATIONS -- 2010; 001

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JOAN HOLLOWAY ✒ MAD MEN

[notastickwoman.livejournal.com]

First Person (entry type):

Third Person:

Joan's life moved in almost a cyclical fashion. Wake up, mildly hung over from a rather nice night on the town, pop an aspirin or three and start to get ready for the long day ahead of her. Granted, some days she'd wake up to find that she didn't have a morning cigarette and she'd have to stop to get a pack or two before she made it to Madison Avenue, but didn't even cause her to skip a beat. Two hours of doing her hair, her makeup, dress (along with her signature gold pen necklace) and heels. Despite the fact that she only had four hours of sleep at best, it was all worth it the moment that a very nice gentleman bought her a pack of cigarettes and offered her a light. He gave her a number (she said she'd call, depending on if Roger would find it - and he would) before she went off on her way. If that happened, Joan knew she had done something well today. Maybe it was her new hairstyle or her new dress; if it received attention, she was doing something right.

The office, life would buzz as usual. A secretary would be crying in the bathroom, switchboard would be lighting up, women would start their morning gossip. Joan would put on a cup of coffee for when the executives would arrive. She would begin her work in an automatic fashion, checking whether everything was up to standard.

That was until she heard the distinct squeal of some of the excited typists from the center of the room. Joan, not allowing anything to hinder work at Sterling Cooper, moved purposefully to break up the jubilation so that everyone would return to work. One of the secretaries had gotten engaged to a stock broker down on Wall Street. For a moment, Joan felt a twinge of envy. She wouldn't allow the smug woman to see it on her fact, but ... that was a rather large diamond. Joan knew that Roger would never leave Mona for her nor would she want him to. The archaic notion that a woman had to be tied down to a man to get whatever they wanted was almost laughable. Men did give women all they wanted, but that didn't mean that she had to sign her life away to one, did it?

"That's a very nice ring," Joan mused diplomatically, taking her hand to examine it closer. You couldn't break up a woman's preening or her haughty boastfulness of an engagement- and to a stock broker of all people. Joan doubted that she would ever be those women. But, if she had to be, she wouldn't get married to someone boring like a broker. Perhaps a doctor or a lawyer, someone that she could contribute to their success.

Because, you know that behind every great man, there was a woman.

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