Albany Park by Myles (Mickey) Golde Page B

desk in the general office with four other women. All of them were older, but only by a few years, with the exception of Miss Malone, the Office Manager, who was about forty. They were reserved and business like; wearing dark-colored, straight-lined suits over long-sleeved white blouses or below-the-knee, dark dresses and elegant silk hose. None wore jewelry with exception of an expensive-looking broach or pin. Outside the office, all the ladies donned hats and gloves, usually matching their outfits. Molly’s straight skirts, which she wore with plain, white cotton blouses and a navy-blue buttoned sweater, hardly seemed appropriate. Neither did her grey beret and cotton hose. She wondered if they noticed the difference and felt shy when talking with any of them. Miss Malone, however, praised her work and the other women encouraged her.
    On Friday, the last day of her first week, the office manager came in late, carrying a cake box and set it next to the ever-present coffee pot that Molly was instructed to keep full during the day. Going from office to office after removing her hat and gloves, Miss Malone invited the lawyers to gather in the general office. The men came in smiling and the ladies all stood waiting. Tapping on the table, she got everyone’s attention.
    “Molly, how about cutting the first piece so we can all formally welcome you to Altshuler and Mann,” she said, holding out the knife to her. As they applauded, Molly blushed. Taking her arm, Mr. Altshuler escorted her to the table, smiling as he said, “We all join in wishing you good luck here. And now, I’d like the first piece of that delicious-looking cake.”
    Hesitating, Molly smiled and felt the red flush coming to her face.
    “C’mon Molly, don’t be shy, anyone that takes shorthand as well as you can surely cut a cake,” Miss Malone chided.
    Flustered, she carefully cut a piece and served it to Mr. Altshuler.
    More applause and then everyone gathered around as she continued, taking the last piece for herself. One of the younger girls gave her a quick hug. That night riding home on the streetcar Molly decided she liked the job and enjoyed the excitement of working downtown.
    The following Monday, like the other young women in the office, she put on fresh makeup, donned her beret and gloves and strolled over to State Street on her lunch hour. The display windows of Carson Pirie Scott, Marshall Fields and Mandel Brothers offering chic new styles tempted her, along with throngs of other young girls working in the Loop.
    When her first month’s paycheck arrived, she splurged on a dressy, plum-colored chemise at Fields. More sensibly, she stopped at Mandel Brothers to pick up a long simple gray cotton dress for the office and three pair of silk stockings that she had put on layaway the week before. She also had her hair bobbed.
    That weekend, she made plans with two girlfriends to attend a dance Saturday night at the Jewish People’s Institute on Douglass Boulevard. She had been to the dances a few times during her senior year in high school and had been on dates with two boys she had met there. Both were nice and had asked her out again, but she begged off, wanting to get a little more experience with other young men. She was looking forward to going back now, and excited to show off her new hairdo.
    On Saturday, she bathed at six o’clock and then began applying her makeup. Each touch of rouge and lipstick was planned and applied with great care. Examining her handiwork, she leaned close to the bathroom mirror, tilting her head to get the best light and turning to make sure there were no streaks or lines. It would not do to be careless.
    The new short hairdo, however, presented a challenge. She was used to thick shoulder-length hair that curled slightly at the end. But that night, the comb and brush would not work. No matter how many times she tried, it never looked right. First a part on the left, then the right and finally the center, but