I liked Barbara Ehrenrich on the very first page. She made me feel like I was an old friend of hers, and she was writing me a letter telling me a funny story. Her writing style is very straightforward, no prose, no waxing poetic about the very un-poetic struggles of the poverty-stricken lower class. Her sarcastic humor and self-putdowns helps you relate to her and her story, no matter what class you might be in. The second sentence on the first page helps you to see her as a credible person, she uses the name of an editor of Harper’s magazine, giving us a creditable witness to her trials in the lower class. She continues to prove her credibility in giving us a summary of her life, telling us that even though she has a Ph. D in Biology and writes for a prestigious magazine, she wasn’t born with a silver spoon in her mouth: her parents had been close to low-wage while she was growing up. This shows us that she isn’t prejudiced in any way, she’s seen both sides of the tracks. Boundaries and rules are set, showing us her aim in undergoing this project: no starving herself, or living on the streets; she’s simply trying to see if a single woman can survive on minimum wage. Bluntly stated, Barbara (we’re on a first name basis now, because of her warm first-person dialogue) tells us that her scenario is the best-case scenario, she’s not making any claims that her experiences in the lower class can be compared to any other persons, and by doing so scores some honesty points and humble pie.
“I mumble thanks for the advice, feeling like I’ve been stripped naked by the crazed enforcer of some ancient sumptuary law: No chatting for you, girl” (35). Chapter one, “Serving in Florida,” revealed much about real employer-employee relationships in the service industry. Barbara displays real relationships she observed while serving in restaurants, showing us instead of telling us that employees in the industry tend to be treated badly, “stripped naked“ and embarrassed whenever...