Happy birthday, Philip Hamilton!!!!
She fiddles with the long strands of her black hair. She can't believe that she has finally made it here. It's absolutely...Jaw-dropping. Maybe it's some kind of fantasy. Should she be pinching herself?
That certainly makes the most sense. Her tan fingers dig into the bare skin of her arm. Wincing at the sudden pain, she glances back down at her arm. If she felt the pain, this can't be the dream...Yet, at the same time, this is the best wondrous dream she has ever been able to partake in.
Slowly, she hikes up her skirts, glancing around the harbor. 1776 in New York City. Truly, it's the only place in the world she would want to be.
Doing a slight circle, she glances about the harbor. She knows she ought to get moving. A Caribbean woman standing in the center of the harbor, swaying to the wind with her light brown dress? It's a sight to behold and then tarnish. She is not here to be tarnished in any way, shape, or form.
Her small town had sent her flying to New York like a bat from...You know what, she isn't going to swear in New York! She's a new woman! But when they read her writing, they fell in love with her. Even though she was born the wrong gender, they knew that she could change the world...If she simply took on a man's name. So despite the fact she's here on her writing, her writing is under the guise of another man.
Now, though, is not the time to be debating all of this. She has someone who she wishes quite dearly to meet. Even if she can't go to college, she'll find a way to make allies within the town...And that's enough for her.
If only she could fight in the war...That would bring her glory.
~~~
It's the most popular bar in the city. Servers bustle about, desperately grinning and searching for tips. She, sadly, doesn't have enough money to buy a drink. She's a woman on a mission right now. She stomps straight up to the bar, plopping down next to a man chatting idly with the bartender.
She clears her throat. "Pardon me, are you the owner of this fine establishment?"
"Who's asking?" The bartender's steely gaze flickers over to her. She's impressed that such a formidable woman is running such a place. She would have imagined a man. Instead, there's a woman with beautiful dark skin and dark hair, standing there with a bemused smile firmly on her face.
She bows her head. "Of course, you're looking for an introduction. I am Alexandra Hamilton, at your service, mam. I've heard of this place, and naturally, I decided to start a search for the woman who runs the place."
"I'm getting nervous," the bartender quips, raising an eyebrow. She slides a drink over to the man before leaning over to her. "What do you need?"
"I heard the name Erin Burr at the docks. They spoke measures of how you were advancing in business in a world that belongs purely to men. It's quite impressive. I spoke of how I wished to do something as defying as you, and the man there laughed at me. The man who worked the riggings?" Alexandra cocks her head and chews on her bottom lip, attempting to look as demure as possible.
Erin Burr snorts slightly. "The dock master?"
"Yes! Him! He seems to believe that your establishment is doomed to crash and burn as a woman can't handle business. I don't agree with such a philosophy. Women can do things just as well as men. You're proving this." She bows her head towards the other woman, wondering if her admiration is coming across. "How did you do such a thing?"
"It was my parents' dying wishes to pass the business to one of their children. My brother dreamed of much more...Interesting pursuits, so the business fell to me. The fact that I'm a woman never bothered my parents too greatly." She is careful to tiptoe over the fact about whether she believes women are equal to men. Alexandra catches that fact, hearing nary an opinion in that statement.
She clasps her hands together. "I'm an orphan as well. We orphans ought to stick together."
"Only if said orphan plans to buy a drink," drawls Burr, waiting.
Alexandra sniggers to herself, quickly nodding. "I have the special. I imagine that you have one. Most places do, after all."
"That we do."
"So, back to the topic of your business...Any advice for me? Do I have to pay for that as well?" teases Alexandra, already accepting the bartender as her new friend. Even if Erin doesn't know it herself, they will be friends. It's her personal mission now.
Erin nods slightly. "Talk less. Smile more."
"What."
"How do you think I get ahead? You don't shoot off your mouth and find allies that way. It is a man's world, it's a fact. If you face it armed with knowledge that you spew in others' faces, you won't make it far. If you face it with quiet knowledge for yourself, you can easily make a difference in this world," Erin murmurs quietly, making sure that the man next to Alexandra can't hear.
Alexandra snorts. "Such a bitter way to think of it."
"You want to talk to brash and loud feminists, go ahead. You want to talk to someone who is doing something women aren't expected to be doing? Talk to me. I can't say that one like yourself would enjoy this method, but it's better than nothing."
"Better than marrying a man for wealth and then sitting around, twiddling your thumbs," Alexandra quickly agrees. If only she wasn't born with breasts and hips. While they are very fine breasts and hips, she would much rather be making a difference.
At least Alexander Hamilton's writing will hit the market. People will admire him as a figure head. Someone who lacks a back story that can be torn apart. After all, nobody wants to hear of a woman's plights in a man's world. She wishes that things could be different, but Erin harbors a solid point. And she is making a difference just by standing there, wiping at the glasses in her own place.
Then, Alexandra cocks her head. "Brash and loud feminists?"
"Look behind you at table eight. They are always there, rattling out facts after facts. And they can, of course..." She wrinkles her nose in disgust.
Alexandra glances at her. "What does that mean?"
"Laurens is a nobleman's crop. She can't be attacked for her opinions as her father is respected and revered. The same goes for Lafayette. She's a diplomat from France, trying to make a difference here in the war by throwing money at the generals. The only one risking anything is Mulligan. I admire her as a woman, but..." Erin cuts herself off and waves a little at Alexandra. "Go speak to them yourself. I will still be here tomorrow and in five minutes. They are the ones who might leave."
"Are you sure you want to be left alone? Without my joyful company?" replies Alexandra, a smile flitting across her face.
Erin smiles. "You certainly think highly of yourself. Go. Have fun. Come back to me if you decide that route isn't the route that you want to go down."
"Of course!" Alexandra replies, hiking up her skirts and quickly hurrying over to table eight. Curiosity shines in her eyes when she stares at the three feminists. Then, she looks back to Erin.
Does she have a choice? If Alexandra must choose between them, she isn't sure what she would do. However, she is certain of one thing and one thing alone. To pick either side would be an adventure in itself...
Just what does she choose?
