One Day

by David Nicholls

He took his martini and drained it. ‘Post-feminism, isn’t it?’ Emma looked sceptical. ‘Oh, is that what we’re calling it now?’ Dexter nodded towards the Cigarette Girl’s bottom. ‘You could look like that if you wanted to.’ ‘No-one misses a point quite like you, Dex.’ ‘What I mean is, it’s about choice. It’s empowering.’ ‘Mind like a laser—’ ‘If she chooses to wear the outfit, she can wear the outfit!’ ‘But if she refused she would be sacked.’ ‘And so would the waiters! And anyway, maybe she likes wearing it, maybe it’s fun, maybe she feels sexy in it. That is feminism, isn’t it?’ ‘Well, it’s not the dictionary definition …’ ‘Don’t make me out to be some kind of chauvinist, I’m a feminist too!’ Emma tutted and rolled her eyes and he was reminded just how annoying and preachy she could be. ‘I am! I am a feminist!’ ‘… and I will fight to the death, to the death, mind, for the right of a woman to display her breasts for tips.’ And now it was his turn to roll his eyes, and give a patronising laugh. ‘It’s not 1988, Em.’ ‘What does that mean? You keep saying it and I still don’t know what it means.’ ‘It means don’t keep fighting battles that are already lost. The feminist movement should be about equal pay and equal opportunities and civil rights, not deciding what a woman can or can’t wear of her own free will on a Saturday night!’