Read Online A 52-Hertz Whale by Bill Sommer - Free Book Online Page B

first paycheck! Welcome to the rat race. But don’t worry, a surprisingly large number of cetologists got their start as arcade mascots, so you’re on the right path. (I just made that up too.)
    My work fortunes have improved slightly as well. Rob/Bob has been allowing me to hang out in the writers’ room lately, which is hilarious, mostly for the wrong reasons. They have this whiteboard, but these people— writers , please remember—have the worst freaking handwriting imaginable—like doctors’ scrawl on prescription pads mixed with Jackson Pollock paint splatters. So they tagged me with writing down their bullshit ideas on said board. I was actually pretty nervous and honored to do this for a couple of days, so I tried to write out exactly what they were saying, other than chopping a word or two and throwing in some useful abbrevs. I didn’t want to get yelled at for messing with what they were saying.
    But a couple of days ago, Rob/Bob yelled at me for writing down everything too literally. He’s like, “You’re not a monkey with a typewriter, Darren.” To which I responded, “Thank you!” And he was like, “It’s not a blanking compliment, blank -head! You’re not supposed to copy out every blankin’ word like a blankin’ robot. You’re supposed to blankin’ paraphrase! Do you know what that word means?” And I was like, “Which one, blankin’ ?” And he goes, “No, you blanker ! ‘Paraphrase’!”
    I was starting to get the sense that I was really close to getting fired, like as close as the elastic of your underwear is to your skin. So I told him I did know what “paraphrase” meant and that I would do it if that’s what he wanted.
    This was the first time I’ve really gotten chewed out at this job, but that sort of anger is actually not uncommon on set or in the writers’ room. Even though the show is (supposedly) a comedy, everyone’s super-tense because they’re (rightfully) in constant fear of getting canceled if people stop watching the show because they realize that it’s about as interesting as reading spam email backwards. It’s pretty toxic in there, and everyone’s always sniping at each other. I didn’t want to turn into a scapegoat, so I did as he said and started trying to get at the essence of what they were saying instead of transcribing every word of their caffeine- and sugar-induced diatribes. So far, it seems like I’m doing pretty well. (Irony alert: The guy who couldn’t read between the lines to save his life when it came to his ex-gf’s hints is an ace at decoding the messages of a bunch of professional dorks.)
    It’s nothing much, but it gives me more of a sense of accomplishment than delivering the perfect latte.
    How’s your little Italian girl?
    Please forgive my late response,
    The Abominable Showman
    From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Date: October 19, 2012 at 8:21 PM
Subject: Today’s meeting
    Hey Rob,
    The other writers have asked me to speak for us as a group. We find your actions today both insulting and disturbing. We realize that the show is in a rough place. And I understand your desire to shake things up a little bit. But what we need is to build cohesion, and instead you’ve given us this silly stunt. That’s all it is, nothing more. And if it blows up in our faces, we’re all going to have to clean it up. Please, just tell the kid you’re sorry but you just weren’t thinking straight.
    Marisa
    From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Date: October 20, 2012 at 1:23 AM
Subject: Michael
    Hello Coach Olmstead,
    Thank you for your response to my last email. I understand you wanting to set high standards for your players. I respect that. I just did not find some of the advice in your original letter feasible. I