Every Thursday afternoon, this guy comes in toting a camera and notepad, and observant lady that I am, I eventually figured out that he was coming into the library to do his "Man on the Street"-type assignment for a local paper.
For you non-newspaper types, that means your editor gives you a
completely lame and idiotic fascinating and compelling question to ask randoms on the street. Typically, this is greeted with dismissal, annoyance and one time even blatant rage (story for another time...).
Wistfully, I remembered my days as a reporter, the rush of seeing my bylines, of scooping the competition...and just as suddenly remembered the frustration of difficult sources, the typos I wish I would have caught on the 345
th read through, the
slave labor modest paychecks, the constant fear of losing my job because of budget cuts....
Today, as I watched him scurry about, being ignored and declined by patrons, I couldn't help but smile with relief.
Gah, I'm glad I'm not in the newsroom any more. Suckers.
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