Are You A Working Girl?

"Are you a working girl?" he asked. I looked up from staring into a storefront window and took a moment to process the question. A middle aged man, dressed in the blue shirt and pants associated with a "blue collar" worker was looking at me inquiringly. "Are you a working girl?" he repeated quietly. I was killing time on Granville Street in downtown Vancouver while waiting for the BC Hydro office, in it's mosaic tiled building on Nelson and Burrard, to open. It was the first day of my first real full-time, grown up job and I had allowed too  much time to get from my family's home in Richmond by bus. I was due at the office at 8:00 AM and it was only 7:30 so I had decided to walk a few blocks in the beautiful morning sunshine.

This looks like a working girl!

It was 1974 and a perfect September day in Vancouver, like we are experiencing now,  a bright blue sky, a fresh crispness to the air after the summer's heat with the warmth of the sun slowly drying up the morning dew. I was preoccupied with my thoughts of the day ahead. I had never had a job other than babysitting or cutting hair or doing alterations for friends and family. Casual stuff of a teenager's life. Three months earlier I had graduated high school and turned seventeen but wanted my last summer of freedom before I started looking for full time work.  When I was ready a mother of a friend of a friend had gotten me the job as a favour and it was quite a big deal. It was hard to find work in a sea of baby boomers graduating high school and college and  BC Hydro was considered a great employer.  I could hardly wait to get started on my new life. Full time work, a generous paycheck, lots of time off. The world was awaiting me! I was so glad to be done with school, the boredom and monotony of my final years there was sloughing off me like an unwanted sweater on a hot day.

Walking off my nerves seemed like a good way to spend the extra time I had that morning. I can still remember my outfit, carefully picked for the occasion. A long, denim blue corduroy skirt with matching blue sandals (hey, it was the seventies!) and a short white jacket I had made in high school sewing class. Shiny, blow-dried hair and a bit of make up on my face that still carried the baby fat of youth. The early seventies clung to the glory days of the sixties hippie look, disco had not yet hit us all with its curling irons and heavy make up so the term "fresh faced" applied.
So there I was, full of importance about my first job at such a big firm. Was I a working girl? You bet I was! Me and Mary Richards. I said "yes" to the man asking the question. "Do you have any time right now?" came his next inquiry.  The universe walloped me upside the head and shouted "Dummy!"in my ear. So much for my fresh faced look and carefully coordinated outfit.  I didn't look ready for work in an office, I looked ready for work in bed! It never occurred to me that men picked up hookers at 7:30 in the morning on a weekday. I was a girl from the suburbs but well aware of what went on in the dark of downtown Vancouver, I just hadn't factored in the daylight hours stuff. I guess this guy had recently finished a night shift and wasn't ready to go home to bed alone. There were no other women that I could see strolling the streets where I was so I got the offer.


Not wanting to seem foolish or unsophisticated for misunderstanding the man I replied, ''no sorry, I'm busy now." So grown up. He apologized for disturbing me and walked away. Welcome to the adult world, the moment seemed to say. You are tired of high school and boring Richmond and living at home and playing at life?  Well, here it is. I laughed at myself, at my huge sense of self importance that had allowed me to misread such an obvious question. I was still a child in some ways but I felt I had made a tiny step onto the ladder of adulthood. I'd been mistaken for a prostitute! How adult was that?  I looked up into that gorgeous sky and if I had of had a hat like Mary Richards on The Mary Tyler Moore Show did I would have thrown it into all that blue.