By Jack Daniel Hennessy
After a wonderful night dreaming of a period cramp-less world with equal pay, I wake up to a beautiful song. Today, I chose Taylor Swift’s “The Man.” Why that song? I don’t know…there’s something so magical about reflecting on gender stereotypes in the morning. It gets me feeling hyped up and ready to comment “hey gorgeous” on a random girl’s Instagram post. Anything to make my queens feel like they matter.
I then contemplated whether to wear my Hillary 2016 or Kamala 2024 shirt, but I ultimately went with a plain purple t-shirt (because every day is International Women’s Day in my home). To keep the purple theme going, I blended grapes, plums, and beets together to create the ultimate feminist smoothie. So delicious.
Time for work! On the way, I like to drive by women and ask if they need a ride. For some reason, they always run away even after I insist for the fifth time. Hmm, weird!
I then headed to my job at Planned Parenthood. Well, technically, I don’t really work there, I just hold the door open for women going in and out. I actually work in the oil fields. After about five minutes, I was told to “leave Planned Parenthood and never come back” because apparently I was “scaring the women” just by being nice to them. Can you believe that?!
I got to the oil fields and my 60-year-old co-worker, Mark, showed me the “baddie” he was trying to “pull” on a dating app. I was livid he could EVER call a woman a “baddie” for anything other than her personality (I’m 6’2” btw). And yes, I get it…working in the oil fields may not be the most feminist job in the world, but I decided to make a change. Today, during lunch, I stood up and demanded equal pay for ALL employees. “Pay the work! Not the gender!” I screamed as my co-workers stared at me and told me to get off the table.
I checked the clock and it read 4 p.m., which meant two things. Time to clock out but most importantly, time to mourn. What do I mourn, you may ask? Periods of course! I mourn the cramps, the pain, and all the rest of it that comes with being a queen. I don’t know…It’s such a tragedy they have to endure this agony just because of their gender (I’m 6’2” btw).
After sobbing alone in my car to Beyoncé’s “Run the World (Girls),” I drove to the pharmacy to track the weekly price of tampons and repost it on my Instagram (@unapologetically.6’2”.feminist). Like wow. An essential product that women have to pay for?! “Shame on you!” I screamed at the 15-year-old cashier working.
Anywho, after a long day of female advocacy, I head home and relax for the evening, and what is better than curling up with a good book? Curling up with a good feminist book! Today I chose Becoming by Michelle Obama. Of course, I turn down the TV because it must be silent when Black women are talking. I gotta say though, I am jealous of Barack 🙁
My one Instagram follower might know that I document each day on my Instagram account, so before I get ready for bed, I like to update and post what I’ve been up to. Unfortunately, no women responded to my post. “Darn,” I said. “Maybe my shirt wasn’t purple enough.”
As the clock struck 8:30 p.m., it was finally time for bed. I kneel by my feminist shrine and pray to Lady Gaga, Dolly Parton, and Anne Hathaway (my three favourite feminists). I beg them to end period cramps and make wages equal. “In my dreams,” I say to myself. I sigh and turn out the lights.
Also, did I mention I’m 6’2”?
