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Published:
1/15/03

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Rock 99 - Chapter 8

By H.G. Miller

8:01 a.m.

“Memos shouldn’t come in at eight-oh-one,” Zap said when they came back from commercial break.

Andy wasn’t the type to check his emails at every break like his counterpart did, and had no idea where Zap was going with this new digression of his. By his watch, it was time for the traffic girl to do her two minutes, then they would play that Green Day song that just won’t die, followed up with a sixty-second promotional announcement touting the latest contest the station was running (something about a trip to Cancun to see an awards show full of artists nobody in the morning show’s current demographics would have ever heard of).

So, Andy was in the break room when Zap cut off Lisa’s traffic report.

For her part, Lisa was sitting in her control booth on the other side of Los Angeles, along with the other traffic report personalities whose feeds pulsed out to the 24 stations in Southern California that were members of the Metro Traffic network. Lisa had her 35-word script touting a newly remodeled hardware store ready to go when Zap cut her off.

“Excuse me?” She asked. Usually the guys let her know about what gags they had planned for the morning.

“Sorry, Lisa,” Zap said. “I was just checking my emails over the break, and the big boss sent out a company-wide memo at 8:01 a.m., Pacific Standard Time, and I just think that’s a little too early in the day for memos.”

“I see,” she said.

“I mean, who gets right to work like that? Don’t most of us fool around in the office for a little bit before we get down to business?”

“I suppose your right,” she said. “What’s the memo about?”

By this point, Andy had abandoned his piping hot cup of coffee, spilling most of it on his shirt as he scrambled back to the booth. Having been sober the night before, he knew what the memo was about. He hadn’t read it, but he knew…

“It’s titled ‘About last night.’ Hey wasn’t that a movie with Rob Lowe?”

“I think it was,” Lisa responded. She, of course, could care less about Rob Lowe, the movie or the memo. She was 35 words of copy away from a cigarette, and little else in the world mattered at eight in the morning.

“Last night’s kind of hazy to me,” Zap continued. “Maybe Mr. Bradford and I got together and he took advantage of me.”

“That’s a scary thought,” Lisa played along with it.

Andy busted into the radio booth and started to make a slashing motion with his hand across his throat. Zap found more inspiration.

“Andy’s making some sort of hand gesture around his throat. Really, Andy, that’s uncalled for. Just because you liked him first doesn’t mean I can’t fool around with the boss.”

Andy pulled his headset on and leaned into his microphone.

“You know how jealous I can be, Zap. Hey, Lisa, how about that traffic report?”

“Just waiting my turn,” she said.

God, were they bickering over the air? Andy was sure this sounded even worse to the audience than it did in his head.

“Here you go,” he said, pushing the button that made car tires skid into the ears of those still paying attention.

“Wait I’m not—” Andy hit the kill switch on Zap’s mic—“finished,” his voice trailed off into dead air. “What the fuck, man?”

“How stoned were you last night,” Andy whispered in the harshest way possible. “Mr. Watley went mental yesterday and took over the station for like eight hours.”

“No shit?”

“Quit swearing.”

“Why? We’re not live right now?”

“It’s sort of a professional thing.”

“Damn, your ass has gotten tight since we started this.”

Andy ignored the comment as he displayed an eerie proficiently while switching out Lisa’s traffic music with the Green Day song and cued up the promo spot.

“Look,” Andy told him. “The memo probably says something in it about how we’re not going to discuss the situation publicly until a proper press release has been sent out and all of the legal stuff figured out. I doubt it’s something we’re supposed to read over the air.”

“You’re probably right,” Zap nodded to Andy, scanning the memo as the Cancun promo ended.

Zap clicked off his kill switch as Andy played off the promo.

“Wow, a trip to Cancun. Where do we find the money for these giveaways? I noticed my last paycheck didn’t show up. How ‘bout you, Zap?”

“I’ve seen your paychecks,” Zap told him and the rest of the world. “It wouldn’t cover this trip.”

Not a bad zinger. Andy had to admit, he hadn’t given Zap much to go with. Zap didn’t care. He hit Andy’s kill switch and held up the memo.

“So, about last night…”