I am both sad and happy to report that Cara has accepted a job at the number one station in Kansas City, MO. She has been an invaluable part of the news team for the past two and a half years. In her time here we have seen huge improvements in the quality of our newscasts and we owe a huge part of that to Cara’s efforts. She stepped up to the plate as Acting News Director, not once, but twice, during her tenure, making sure that we didn’t lose any momentum when I was out on maternity leave.
Not only are we going to miss Cara’s great work ethic, and “super producer” eye for detail, but we are going to miss a warm and wonderful personality that makes the newsroom a really fun place to be!
Please come by and give Cara a fond farewell. We know she has a very bright future ahead of her!!!
Nice, isn’t it? That’s the e-mail my News Director sent out to inform the staff I was leaving. It’s nice to finally go out on a high note at one of my stations (although I have tarnished my reputation here slightly in the past few weeks), especially since I nearly got fired from my first job—for what was dubbed the “DDR Scandal (Debauchery in the Dressing Room).”
It had all started innocently enough—a fight with a co-worker who I had recently started dating, turned into making up…and then REALLY making up in the dressing room at work. We were actually mid…uh, make up…when we heard–
KNOCK! KNOCK!
“Erik, are you in there?” the station’s new Executive Producer (and soon-to-be pain in my ass) Julie, called from the other side of the door.
Erik and I froze, a look of terror on both our faces. “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.
“Open the door,” she demanded.
“Hang on one second,” Erik responded, a hint of fear in his voice. “I’m just getting out of the shower.”
Erik and I quickly grabbed our clothes and started dressing at the speed of light.
“The shower?” I whispered. “Your hair isn’t even wet!”
“Quick! Get in there,” Erik whispered as he tried ushering me into the station’s small shower stall, my clothes still in my arms.
“Are you kidding me?”
“Just stay in here, and don’t say a word,” Erik said as I moved directly underneath the shower head.
“But–” I started to say as we heard another knock on the door.
“Erik! I need you to open the door RIGHT NOW.”
“I’m sorry,” Erik said as he leaned in and kissed me, and turned on the shower. All of a sudden, I was hit with a burst of ice cold water. I screamed in shock, but because of the kiss, the muffled sound could not be heard. And Erik ended up with a douse of water on his head—just enough to look like he had, in fact, just gotten out of the shower.
He closed the door to the shower room, and I stood there, dripping wet and freezing. I could barely make out the conversation in the next room after Erik unlocked the dressing room and let Julie inside.
“What’s going on in here?” she asked.
“Nothing. Like I said, I just got out of the shower,” Erik tried to casually say, but he was so nervous he was practically stumbling over every word.
“Well, I need to talk to you,” she said. “Mind if I sit down?”
“No, by all means,” Erik said as he motioned her to the couch.
I moved closer to the door in an attempt to hear what was going on, but couldn’t make out anything until–
“What the hell is this?”
“Oh my god,” Erik exclaimed. “Where did that come from?”
What the fuck are they talking about? Did I leave a sock or something in the dressing room? I quickly dropped my pile of clothes and started going through everything. Socks, pants, bra, everything was here.
“You said you were just in the shower, right?” Julie asked Erik.
“Uh, yeah. I came into work late and decided to take a quick shower before the show.”
“So you don’t mind if I check in there?”
Oh shit. There was no hiding in the shower room. I started frantically pulling my sopping wet clothes back on.
I could tell Erik didn’t know what to do. “Sure, you can check in there if you want,” he said, “but I don’t know why you would need to.”
I heard some commotion, almost like Erik running for the door to the shower room.
“Erik, move away from the door,” Julie commanded.
I froze in place, scared to move, scared to breathe. I had only managed to get my t-shirt back on, and had just one leg in my jeans.
“Seriously, Erik, MOVE!”
Oh, shit.
The next thing I knew, the show door swung open, and I was face-to-face with Julie. She looked me up and down, taking in my dripping wet hair and sopping clothes.
I didn’t know what to say, so I just smiled at her. Julie let out a huge sigh.
“We need to talk,” she said. “NOW.”
