ABSTRACT
Awaking late, Linda rushes from her apartment building and grabs a newspaper as she boards her bus. The paper carries the usual headlines: investigation into variation in the daily proportion of boys born at smallville cottage hospital. “A good thing, too”, Linda thinks. “There are always odd things happening at those small hospitals – they often have the worst success rates for treatment, but then again, some of the very best performing hospitals are small ones”. She turns to the newspaper quiz page: what year did george washington become u.s. president? “Easy”, she thinks, “some time after American independence in 1776 – let’s say 1778”. The bus stops at the traffic light. “Oh well, that’s three days in a row … at least tomorrow the light won’t be red. Hmm, a Bob Dylan song on the iPod again … that shuffle function never really worked”. Glancing up at the billboard – top performance, best value in class, and as green as a huggable tree – drive the best vw yet – Linda thinks, “Good brand, worth a look if I ever buy a car”. Looking over to the shops, Linda spots a new sign: a stitch in time saves nine. “How true”, she thinks. “I bet they’re good – I must take that old smock dress to be repaired there”. She steps off the bus and the usual thoughts pass through her mind as she stares at the familiar sign of the first national bank of rich and evil: “I don’t care how well recognised they are, I would never buy their stock, and could certainly never work there”. And with that, Linda turns swiftly and hurries into her office, passing the sign that she has walked past each working day since leaving university: feminists against the banking industry.
