Chapter 11

No one told anyone anything ever.  And I never had any more bullying problems and neither did my “connected” friend, Abby.

What a memory for a morning’s record hangover.  But I did smile.  I always smiled when I remembered that story.

I started to roll over.  My head felt dumb and too heavy for my neck.  I wondered…what time was it anyway?  I knew it was Saturday.  Thank God I had it off this week.

But if I had had to go to work…I would have gone.  That’s how it is when you work for a daily newspaper.  You.  Go.  To.  Work.  That’s the one thing that has never changed in the newspaper business…unless you could send in your stories digitally from home…but neither Hanah nor I had achieved that status…yet.

Right now we had desks and cubes and a computer and our editor expected to see us there if we weren’t out on assignment.

Just like old school, without the free-wheeling lifestyle of newspaper reporters of the 40’s, 50’s and even 60’s.

Back then there were always 2 or 3 bars around every newspaper in every city in America.  Their success depended on how much the reporters and pretty much everyone else connected to the paper drank…and they drank a lot.

Bloody Mary’s for breakfast?  Of course.  Martinis at lunch?  Why not.  A couple of beers before heading home?  I am surprised you ask.

The Christmas parties were legend and mostly banned in the mid-sixties.  Actually banned.  I wish I could have gone to just one.