Dear News Director:
After two wonderful years together, I regret to inform you that it is time for me to move on. My last day will be Friday, February 18th. I can only imagine what you must be feeling now: betrayal, anguish, frustration, complete heartbreak. Trust me, this pain is normal and will fade with time.
Believe me, it’s not you—it’s me. After my recent indiscretions, I can no longer look you in the eyes without an overwhelming feeling of embarrassment. Please know that, in my heart, I will always love you. I do honestly believe this is for the best, and while you will never find someone who is an even better fit for you than I was, hopefully you’ll come close.
It’s been a really great run, and I appreciate all the good (and bad) times we’ve had together. I hope we can still be friends.
The clock is ticking. In just over a week, I will walk out of my current newsroom for the last time. I recently handed in my resignation letter to the news director (AKA my boss—see above) and am basically spending my last two weeks as a lame duck Assistant News Director. Sure, I’m still here (physically), and I still participate in meetings (sarcastically), but other than that, the majority of my time has been spent on Facebook, texting, and well, blogging.
In my last few weeks at the station, I have transformed into the kind of manager that I always hated working for—the kind who didn’t give a damn. The quintessential version of this manager was the Executive Producer at my first station (who was hired, and spent the first six months of her tenure planning a Disney World wedding—no joke).
Julie was hired a few months after I started, and spent her first few weeks shadowing the weekend crew so she could see “what we’re all about.” Unfortunately for me, her first day on the weekend shift happened to be the same day all the drama with Erik and Amber was playing out.
Erik and I were in the dressing room when according to my roommate, Jennifer, Julie came into the newsroom, wedding binder in hand.
“Hey Jennifer,” Julie chirped as she walked to her desk, and put down her wedding schwag. She looked around the newsroom. “Where is everyone?” she asked.
“Oh, well,” Jennifer tried to stall, knowing that Erik and I were locked inside the small dressing room down the hall. “Well, Cara had to run out for a minute, and I think Erik’s running late.”
She looked nervously around the room. For someone who slept around with married men as much as she did, you would’ve thought Jennifer would have a better poker face. “Everyone else is here, though!”
“But didn’t I see Cara’s car in the parking lot?” Julie asked. “She’s drives that old Cutlass, right?” Julie walked to the window and pointed to my car. “See? It’s right there. Where did she go?”
“Oh, uh, ” Jennifer stumbled. “She must’ve come back and I didn’t see her. She’s probably down in the control room.”
“Oh, okay,” Julie said, then sat down at her desk.
Jennifer let out a sigh of relief. As she tried to continue working, she noticed Julie was staring at her.
“Is something wrong?” Jennifer asked.
“You said Cara was down in the control room, right?”
“I’m sure she is.”
“Hmmm. Well, maybe I’ll just go down there and see what she’s up to.”
But Julie didn’t move. She just sat there looking at Jennifer, waiting for her to react.
“Um, okay,” Jennifer finally said after about ten seconds.
Julie got up and started walking to the control room, where I definitely was not.
I was still in the dressing room with Erik.
“You really want to do this?” he asked.
“You know what? I do,” I told him. “I really like you, and think this could be really good. So what if Amber has a problem with it? She’ll just have to get over it.”
“And so will the rest of the newsroom,” Erik said.
“Yeah,” I said, suddenly realizing what an impact our new relationship was going to have on our co-workers. With such a small newsroom, I had already been hit hard with the fact that everyone knew everything about everyone else—so there would be no hiding our relationship, and there would be convincing anyone that I didn’t steal Erik from Amber.
“It doesn’t matter what they think,” I told him. “I’ve already made a name for myself as the office skank—”
“Actually, Jennifer’s clenched that title,” Erik said.
I laughed as he leaned in and kissed me. I felt my heart skip a beat. I REALLY liked this guy.
He gently pulled away and rested his forehead against mine.
“I wish we weren’t at work right now,” he whispered.
I smiled. “Why is that?”
“Because I want you so bad right now.”
I looked up at the clock. 3:45PM. The first newscast of the evening wasn’t until 6:00PM, and I didn’t have to start marking scripts or get ready to direct until 5:00PM, at the latest.
“We’ve got time,” I said as I pulled him on top of me.
Five minutes later, I was propped up on the dressing room table with my back against the mirror.
And that’s when it happened.
KNOCK! KNOCK!
“Erik, are you in there?” Julie called from the other side of the door.
Erik and I froze. “Shit,” I whispered, “Don’t say anything.”
“Is Cara in there with you?”
“Fuck!” I whispered again. Erik and I looked at each other, still too scared to move. How were we going to get out of this one?
Julie wasn’t going to give us time to come up with an answer.
“Open the door,” she demanded.
