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.