3
A Bad Audition
Bridget
My platform shoe bounced up and down against the chrome leg of the table where I sat. I'd arrived late, having been blocked by one of the Vietnam demonstrators on my way to class. I'd picked out my outfit carefully today, wearing my nicest pair of bell bottoms and the new handkerchief blouse I'd sewed for myself over the weekend. My hair wasn't long and straight like most of the girls in my community college. No matter what I did, I couldn't get that sleek hair look that was fashionable. Instead, I opted for the Twiggy look, short and cute, the pixie cut. I tried not to bite at my fingernails, although that was always my go-to thing in tense situations.
My friend, Tom, finished his speech on Nature vs. Nurture and sat down. I smiled at him, letting him know he'
