The House of Fabulous
Keywords: Fabulous, The, of, House,
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*Effective January 1, 2004, Assembly Bill 196 amended California's Fair Employment and Housing Act to prohibit discrimination based on a person's perceived identity, appearance or behavior, even if they are different from a person's sex at birth. AB 196 is primarily intended to prohibit discrimination against employees who choose to dress like the opposite sex and or portray the stereotypical characteristics of the opposite sex. Businesses cannot refuse to hire based on cross dressing, neither can they fire, lay off or refuse to give merit raises based on an employee's real or perceived gender. *
Charles Bigelow threw the article down on his immaculate mahogany desk and snorted. "What a load of crap," he said as he reached for the phone. "Get whoever's in charge of the legal department these days, and Wallace in Human Resources. And see if you can find a conference room that's available for a meeting in fifteen minutes."
Bigelow's executive assistant knew when the old man was in a bad mood, and today was one of those days. As she flipped through her directory, she wondered what had set him off this time. Another round of disappointing earnings reports? The company's financial problems were no secret, and it was rumored that heads were going to roll in the executive suite if the ship of state didn't turn around soon.
The company's general counsel had quit after a blowup with Bigelow over records destruction, and two of his assistants had already tendered their resignations in the aftermath. She ran her finger down over the scratched out names until she came to Terrence Poindexter, with the words "acting general counsel" penciled in next to his name. Better call him fast before he joined the exodus.
* * *
Bigelow and Helen Wallace were waiting in the conference room when Terrence Poindexter arrived, a few minutes late, carrying a yellow legal pad and a handful of pencils. A back room boy all the way, he was much more comfortable surrounded by a pile of law books than by a room full of corporate executives, and he fidgeted nervously with one of his pencils as he waited for Charles Bigelow to start the meeting. It didn't help that Bigelow seemed to be staring right through him, dissecting him from his pony tail and bow tie to his khakis and Birkenstocks. When Bigelow finally cleared his throat to speak, Terrence almost jumped out of his skin.
"I just learned about the latest insanity from Sacramento," he said, pushing copies of the article across the table. "Does this mean what I think it means?"
Helen skimmed the article while Terrence seemed to be studying it word for word. Please God, let him speak first, she said to herself, knowing Bigelow's penchant for shooting messengers on sight. Her prayer was answered when Terrence put down the article and tried to answer the question. "I don't know what you think it means," he began in his soft lisping voice, "but I can tell you what the legislature intended. Basically, if an employee should decide one day to show up dressed as a member of the opposite sex, the company cannot discriminate against him, or her, as the case may be. The same holds true for job applicants."
"Let me see if I have this straight," Bigelow retorted. "If a three hundred pound man shows up for a job interview in a dress and high heels, are you telling me we have to hire him?"
"No, but you can't base your decision on his appearance."
"As a practical matter," Helen cut in, "we can base our hiring decisions on other criteria, so I think we can work our way around that."
"As long as the paperwork backs us up, you're right," Terrence said. "The bigger problem is with current employees."
"What do you mean?" Bigelow challenged him.
"Well, suppose one day one of our male employees decides to show up in a dress. Under the new law, we can't fire him, and we may even have to make some reasonable accommodations, such as restrooms...."
Bigelow erupted. "Are you telling me that I have to turn our business into a drag show?"
"Well, no sir," Terrence stammered. "For one thing, this may never come up...."
"Are you kidding? We're in San Francisco, for Christ sake. It's only a matter of time before one of those ballerinas in the marketing department decides to come dancing out of the closet!"
"Well, in that case, the law is clear," Terrence said. "We have to accept them and learn to deal with it."
Helen closed her eyes. She couldn't bear to watch. "If I started to run our business based on legal advice like that, we'd go straight down the tubes!" he shouted.
"Based on our latest earnings reports, I'd say we're headed there already," Terrence said, surprising himself as he said it. Helen sat and stared at him with an open mouth.
Bigelow would have loved to fire Terrence on the spot, but lawyers were tricky. The last thing he needed was to be slapped with another wrongful termination suit. His face was beet red when he got out of his chair. "Helen, I'd like to meet with you in my office. Alone."
* * *
Terrence was still shaking when he returned to his small, cluttered office in the bowels of the legal department. He had declined offers to move into the larger offices of his departed colleagues, not wanting the pressure that would come with them, and knowing that such a move would only have been temporary.
It was all academic now, of course. He was toast. Charles Bigelow was probably reviewing his personnel file with Helen right now, scheming to find a bullet-proof way to terminate him. He looked at the article which he'd brought with him from the conference room, and he was about to file it away when the idea entered his mind.
At first, he dismissed it as absurd. What he really needed was enough breathing room to hang onto his job until a new general counsel could come on board, evaluate his qualifications, and protect him from the wrath of Charles Bigelow. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized that his career had been hopelessly damaged. What new executive would want to expend valuable political capital defending an employee against his own CEO? No, he had to face reality. His career at Tyrex Industries was finished, and under the severance guidelines which he himself had drawn up for Helen Wallace, he would be entitled to a lousy three months' salary on his way out. That wouldn't keep the wolf from the door very long in a city like San Francisco.
Terrence began to think like a lawyer. If there was no hope of hanging onto his job, the best he could shoot for was some grounds for making his termination a wrongful one. If he could put the company on the defensive by trumping up grounds for a discrimination action, for example, he'd be off to the races. As a white male from an Ivy league law school, Terrence Poindexter wasn't your average plaintiff in a civil rights case. He looked at the article again and smiled to himself when he found the passage he was looking for: "AB 196 is primarily intended to prohibit discrimination against employees who choose to dress like the opposite sex." The plan of action was simplicity itself. But would he have the balls to pull it off?
* * *
After telling Human Resources that he was going home sick, Terrence left the office as quickly as possible. The key to his strategy was to strike first, by putting himself in the position to claim discrimination when his termination notice was received. Knowing Charles Bigelow, he reckoned he had very little time.
Terrence had seen the advertisements many times on his way to and from work on the Muni, and sure enough, he found one of the ubiquitous placards on the back of a park bench. In the past, he had ignored them, but today he took out his cell phone and punched in the number below the pitch: "The House of Fabulous for boys who should have been girls. No assignment too challenging. Complete confidentiality guaranteed. Call today for your own personal makeover." The text was accompanied by a picture of a beautiful girl, evidently a guy, which some vandal had defaced with a mustache and goatee. Terrence went straight to the point when a woman answered the phone.
"I need a personal makeover. Today."
"Oh dear, I'm afraid that won't be possible. We're booked up through the end of the week."
"What do you charge for a makeover?"
"Well, it depends on what you want. We have a menu of services. For an initial transformation, for example, we charge $500. We also offer wardrobe consultation and a complementary shopping service, as well as a host of other options."
"I'll double it."
"I beg your pardon?"
"I need a complete makeover, today. Time is of the essence. I'll pay double your standard fee, and pay a percentage on the wardrobe. Please, you've got to help me. I'm desperate."
"If it were just the money, I would have to say no to you. But you do sound desperate, and we are in business to help our customers. If you can stop by at four o'clock, I'll see what we can do. What is your name?"
"Terrence. The stores are open till nine. Will that give us enough time?"
"Goodness. I suppose that depends on what we have to work with."
* * *
Terrence went home to his apartment and tried to think of what he might do to expedite his transformation. He pulled his hair out of its ponytail, and watched with approval as it fell almost to his shoulders. When he took off his clothes, he realized immediately that the first thing he had to do was remove his body hair. All of it.
It took him almost two hours, wearing out razor after razor as he tediously worked his way over his chest, back, legs and arms. There were more than a few cuts, and some places that he just couldn't reach, but by the time he finally rinsed himself off in the shower, the parts that would show were smooth and hairless. He shampooed and conditioned his hair, taking a lot more time than usual drying and brushing it out, before he put on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt and made sure his wallet was stuffed with cash.
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Keywords: Fabulous, The, of, House,