Read Online Drama Is Her Middle Name by Wendy Williams - Free Book Online

doesn’t work—I
mean, everything I’ve told you—holla back.”
    â€œThank you, Ritz!”
    â€œOh, my pleasure,” Ritz said. “I mean, it will be
your
pleasure!”
    â€œOoooh!” Aaron howled again.
    â€œNext caller,” Ritz said. “You’re on with Ritz!”

    During the first break, Ritz took a sip of her diet Pepsi, one of
five she drank during her shift.
    â€œJamie, I’m ready for another,” Ritz yelled to her latest intern, who was busy getting the hundreds of faxes coming in,
checking the e-mails, answering the phones, and loving it.
    â€œOkay, Ritz,” Jamie said, never letting anyone see her
sweat. Jamie was a third-year student at New York University
and ambitious as hell. Her banker father taught her the No.
1 rule of success: Identify the power and stay close to it. “It’s
the only way you will conquer it, sweetie. You have to be at
the right hand of power.”
    Jamie went above and beyond the call of duty for Ritz and
never complained. In fact, she always seemed to have a smile
even when Ritz humiliated her on the air.
    â€œUm, intern!” Ritz would scream on the air. “This diet
Pepsi is not cold enough! What’s your problem?! People, can
I tell you how hard it is to find good help?”
    Jamie never showed any frustration. She would just go
back and get a colder diet Pepsi, pressing it against her arm
to make sure that it was indeed cold. She then put the cool
one in the tiny freezer in the half fridge in the Ritz’s “office.”
The station pimped out an entire large corner of the utility
room to give Ritz her own space. All of the corner offices
were taken by executives. Ritz’s makeshift office turned out to
be among the biggest. It was definitely the most colorful. She
decorated it with an animal-print rug, painted the walls
pink—her favorite color—and adorned them with photos
from her most famous interviews. She had pictures with Angela Bassett and Janet Jackson, O.J. Simpson (one of her favorites. She was surprised by how sexy he was), and even
Jennifer Lopez, whom Ritz interviewed when J. Lo was the
hottest thing going—back when she was with P. Diddy, who
was just Puffy then and Ritz was still doing nights. Now the
tables had turned but J. Lo was still one of her favorites.
    Jamie rushed back to the studio with the ice-cold diet
Pepsi and discreetly placed it on the desk in front of Ritz,
who picked it up without even looking.
    â€œNow that’s better, intern,” said Ritz, who never called her
interns by name on the air because they never lasted longer
than three months and she didn’t want her audience to get
attached. Keeping them nameless kept them anonymous and,
therefore, nobodies. But Jamie was in her sixth month. Ritz,
despite the hard time she gave her, actually adored her.
    â€œThat Jamie is trying to make herself invaluable,” Ritz told
Chas after the girl’s first week on the job.
    â€œThis one may be a keeper,” Chas said.
    â€œNah, I doubt that,” Ritz said, not wanting to concede.
But when Jamie’s three-month stint was up, no one said anything. They just kept her on.
    After slipping the icy diet Pepsi into place at Ritz’s right
hand, out of the way of the stack of faxes, magazines, and
other papers, Jamie took her seat to finish screening calls.
The phone lines never stopped, and it was Jamie’s job to
weed out the nut jobs from the whack jobs. The whack jobs
were the most coveted callers—like James in St. Louis who
once called to get advice about what to do about his fifteen inch penis. He was having a hard time,
literally,
getting a
steady girlfriend. And there was Stephanie from Westchester,
who had slept with practically every star athlete in the world.
She was always good for some gossip about someone no one
ever expected to hear about.
    The nut jobs were plentiful.