19 April, 2011

A trip to Denmark?

19 April 2011
389

R. Linda:

As you know work life is rather tense. Stressful, be also a good word. BUT, perhaps Madame De Ville is just the thing. More and more I get the impression she LIKES me. Now I may be wrong, but we have had a few sessions where we all meet first thing and we go over the different stories we are covering. It was something my former editor-in-chief started because he found we can bounce off ideas and most of the time they are fruitful and payoff. Well, Ms. De Ville wasn't so sure she wanted to continue such a practice, but she said she would like to have one of these sessions just to see how we handle such a meeting.

Now as you may imagine, we were all pretty stiff and non-communicative with HER sitting there holding court. Finally, she says, "THIS can't be productive. So far not one of you has uttered one intelligent word. You are all sitting here like you are made of wood and are waiting for Gepetto to animate you."

Ouch! Well, McKeen, of all people, cleared his throat and said something like, "Since I have a story that I think will interest the rest of you, let me give you some background and then I'd appreciate any ideas on which lead to take first because to be honest, both are so substantial, I don't want to tip my hand by taking the wrong turn."

And so he explained what he was working on and it was a very intriguing story, and he did have two leads that if he took the wrong one, could blow his story wide open, or the other could take him down another path to another person with information that, while delaying the scoop, could give him substantial source material for a Pulitzer prize. Ok, I be exaggerating on that last. Usually, we keep our work to ourselves, but we are a small paper and we cross each other's paths so frequently that holding our aces close to the vest, well, just isn't needed. Wooden as we were, and feeling self-conscious with Cruella sitting among us, no one wanted to speak first. So after a minute, I jumped in, yes I did. You know me, when I get nervous I chatter away like a magpie.

Well, once I got going everyone else jumped in and with Cruella not saying a word we kind of forgot she was there. We've had several short interchanges like this in the past two days and I sort of thought that by the look on Cruella's face, she found me amusing. You have heard me on audio give ideas for a story I was working on, and you know I be tongue in cheek on a lot of it, well, I thought to meself, she either takes me as I am, or I move on. Well, was a surprise to me when she told me to hold on as the others left the room. I thought I was in trouble until I watched in fascination as her face broke into a slow smile. It was like watching the sun come up only it looked like it hurt. It was at once scary and heartening . . . sort of. So I sat meself back down and looked at her in expectation, of what I didn't know.

"You, Mr. O'Sullivan are a very witty fellow. I rather like the way your mind works, never truly taking anything at face value or very seriously. Even when it involves life or death situations." Her smile became a sneer and I shifted uncomfortably in me chair. Uh oh, this wasn't going as I thought it might. I said nothing, just nodded in acknowledgement.

"So, Mr. O'Sullivan, as you spoke and all your fellows twittered at your wit, I sat here thinking what an enigma you seem. One minute focused and listening like you were weighing these weighty matters, and then analysing and putting together a response that would make us all stand up and take notice. But no, the comedian in you can't stay quiet and out comes the sharpest sarcastic wit I have heard since . . . since . . . ME!"

I was floored I didn't know what to say. I sat dumb with me mouth hanging open wondering where we were going with this.

"In watching you, I have come to the conclusion you really are in the wrong profession."

Uh oh, I thought, I'm getting the axe.

"And in my learned opinion, I do believe you'd be outstanding at stand-up comedy."

OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH I thought, my wife is going to kill me for losing me job.

"I don't know if you really do any of that sort of thing, but I would encourage you to take a stab at it."

YUP, me arse be about to be FIRED!

"But since you work for me, and I don't run a comedy club, and I do appreciate your acerbic humour, I have an assignment coming up where I think you would be the perfect journalist for the job."

WOW. What just happened? And she called me a journalist, not a reporter! WOW!

"Next week I would like you to leave for Copenhagen. I'd like you to do an investigative story on why Denmark has been able to maintain low unemployment when all the countries around her have not been as successful. You'll have to set up your interviews and there will be no time for sightseeing. You go, do your job, you come back."

I was speechless. What does Denmark have to do with a sense of Irish humour? Something was rotten in Denmark and I didn't know what it was. But I was all for the trip and the challenge was up my alley, so I nodded looking as serious as I could that I was a professional and ready to do whatever it took. But it still bothered me in the back of my mind that all was not right with Denmark.

We discussed the unemployment here and everywhere for about 30 minutes and she thought I had a good handle on it. As we were parting ways, she said to me, "Hamlet, have you an Ophelia?"

"Beg pardon?" I asked not sure I heard her right.

"Have you a wife?"

OH MY GOD. I was being sized up I was! WHAT to do NOW? I said I did, and blabbered about two kiddies two hot dogs (I meant dogs, but that's not what came out of me nervous mouth) and a cat! I really need to try not to let me trap run away with itself when I am nervous.

She smiled slightly, which would mean only one side of her face seemed to lift, and nodded leaving me standing there.

I don't know what to think R. Linda. Am I being set up to fail? Am I being looked at as possible husband material? I dunno. I get the distinct impression that though I am married to Ophelia, I mean Tonya, it doesn't matter to Cruella  AKA Lady Macbeth, that there is a wife in the picture. Oi! When I told Ton I had a trip to Denmark coming up and that I wished I could take her and the kiddos but it was quick in and out, she told me that was alright, she couldn't get off with that little notice and it was just too wonderful I was getting a foreign trip in. The experience would do me good, oh, and do sneak some of that fabulous Danish cheese home, and oh, do see if you can get an interview with Crown Princess Mary she might be able to shed some light on that unemployment thingie. Thingee? Crown Princess? Like a crown princess would have time for moi? And on unemployment, maybe fashion, but unemployment? If Denmark's royal family was anything like England's . . . let me snicker up my sleeve now. Geez, here I be on me first big assignment (yes, bigger than me interview with Paris Hilton (see Interview With Paris Hilton 22-01-10)) and all my wife can think of is Danish cheese and a fashionable royal.

Well, I be working steadily on the economies of the Euro countries in comparison to Denmark and I actually think the Danes are a pretty smart bunch. And I looked at a photo of Crown Princess Mary and she certainly is better looking than our Anne and princess wannabe Camilla. But she also doesn't look like she'd give this witty Irish fella the time of day.

Gabe
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2 comments:

Fionnula said...

I wonder if Cruella would "like the way your mind works" if she read this story, LMAO

Dew said...

I'm thinking after a most recent pic I have seen, she definitely would!