Classic Journalism

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The neon light glowing from my Timex yelled at me. Fuck. I danced the typical one legged pants dance to the door. It’d be easier with Levis but of course office life doesn’t allow it. I’d have to leave right now if I wanted to stop at 7-11 for coffee. It’s not that I was a big fan of their coffee, it’s just Top Pot closed down a few months back. Plus, the cashier from South Africa wasn’t bad to look at either.

I slammed my hand against the giant red Button labeled “PUSH TO EXIT” and forced myself out of the apartment gate. It wasn’t cold enough to see your breath yet but the brown leaves still took up most of the sidewalk. I turned the corner down Cedar Springs and looked at the “Parking in the Rear” sign behind Rocco’s Pizza’s. Cracked me up every time.

Up ahead near the Signe liquor, there was a mess of greenish steel, baskets, and rubber tires everywhere. Just tons of bikes laying round, almost blocking the path of the already barely visible sidewalk. “These things again?” I said to myself. Dallas had implemented a new bike share program all throughout downtown. You do some iPhone voodoo magic with an app and the bike unlocks. You ride it where you need to go, park it where ever, and lock it up. Apparently the parking part was the problem. But I laughed as I saw one in a tree once.

Carefully, he stepped around the bikes. Once he got through the metal jungle, he heard a loud yell.

“Excuse me, Sir!”

Mexican in a red sweater vest and nice Rayban glasses which complemented his facial features walked towards him. Best dressed homeless man I’d ever seen.

“I’m sorry man I’m running late, but I don’t have any cash on me.”

The guy chuckled. I noticed he was caring a black microphone with a triangle around it that said “FOX CHANEL 11.” Straight ahead another Mexican man holding a giant camera, blocked my path.

“It’s okay, I’m not homeless. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions? It will only take a few minutes.” He asked.

“Yea I guess so.” I said. I wasn’t thrilled but everyone gets fifteen minutes right?  Why not use some now? The reporter jumped in.

“So what do you think of the bike share program in Dallas?”

“Overall, I think it’s a good thing. It’s mostly kids my age that use them and I’d rather have them ride a bike after the bar, then jump behind the wheel.” He paused for a second and looked at the bikes on the ground. “But yea there’s still some problems to work out, like that.”

The guy instantly fired off another question. “How do you think the problems should be solved?”

I’d seen bikes laying around downtown but never this many, and completely blocking the sidewalk like this. Something clicked in my head. Oh shit. Classic journalism. Always one sided. Never the real story. This guy didn’t give a fuck what I thought. He had a job to do. He punched in the time clock, just like me. But he didn’t know I knew the craft. I may only have 6 followers on my blog, but dammit, I’m learning how to display things to reader. Only difference is, I don’t have any agenda behind my stories, just entertainment. And I’ll be damned if I’m gonna just stand here and get blinded by the spotlight!

I took a deep breath. Looked up. I really wanted to use these words carefully. It had to be perfect. I’d seen it done a few times but never had the opportunity to say it myself, in the big stage. I shot a few air bullets to clean out my throat.

“You know what I think?….”

I paused one last time and took a deep breath. Looked dead center in the camera. The reporter instinctively pushed the mic closer to my face. I felt my lips touch the black fuzzy part. The camera guy focused the lens with his left hand. It was like a three way Mexican stand off where I was the only white guy and no one had guns. It’s time! I clutched the mic with my right hand.

“FUCK HER RIGHT IN THE PUSSY!!!!!”

 

(Edit)

*Complete Bullshit they didn’t use my take.

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