No job, just a few memories

Alas, I am over the excitement at the prospect of returning to a newspaper. For one thing, the paper I applied to never called me. But they did call my boyfriend for a quick phone interview.

Here is why this bothers me.

The job was for a content editor/designer. The editor was responsible for the atrociousness that is "citizen journalism." Editing and laying out reader-submitted crap, er, content. So, no, it wasn't a plum job, to be sure. But the thought of the newsroom ... well, hey. I couldn't help myself. I got excited at the thought.

They never contacted me. I have 12 years of experience with newswriting and editing. My boyfriend has about the same, mostly in sports. When I found out they interviewed him, I really thought they'd interview me, too. I was a bit down when it didn't happen.

But then I remember the handful of times I've been in this newsroom. It wasn't like the newsrooms I've worked in. (Yes, I'm OK with ending a sentence with a preposition.)

It was quiet. Too quiet. No laughter. No hum. No buzz. Nobody seemed excited. It was as if someone had come through with a giant cattle prod to subdue the herd.

As we walked by reporters' desks, most of them didn't even look up. Zero curiosity. Am I the only one who finds that weird?

All the editors had limp handshakes. OK, maybe this shouldn't bother me, but it did. There was only one editor out of God knows how many who I thought I might like to work for. And at least two that just looked like assholes. Serious assholes. I'd never trust a guy who wears a suit that costs as much as that one did. Even if he did buy it at Burlington Coat Factory.

I was at the office because this paper was owned by the same company that owned the itty bitty paper I worked for. When our paper was bought by the chain, reporters at our paper were assigned "mentors" from the larger paper, which was near us. (I got a pretty cool one.) So I was there with him and another reporter he mentored.

I remember the time several of us were told to attend a seminar at the big paper. We left work at 1 or so and drove the hour-plus to get there. We pull up to the company-owned parking lot and are told: Nope, you can't park here. Didn't care who we were, where we were from or why we were there. There were parking spaces; we could see them, but the guard would not budge. He directed us to city pay lot down the street. None of us had a stitch of cash on us. Why would we? So we said "fuck it" and drove back home. Took the rest of the damn day off.

How about that? A free half-day off, courtesy of the big guys. Thanks!