"Not bad for a first assignment, eh chief?"
Chief. I hate it when he calls me chief. Makes me feel old; doesn't seem like I deserve to be called chief. Heck, being 30 sucks balls but that doesn't mean you should be okay with other people call you 'chief'. Well at least not today.
Today I woke up on the right side of the bed, but when I looked around to check the view, seemed like everything was topsy turvy. Wasn't nice to look at, or even feel like I got everything good and the whole world was messed. I didn't want to think like I was different from the rest of these mother fuckers around here. It's good to feel good when you wake in the morning, just don't feel too good, you douche.
"I hate it when you call me that, Neil."
My words smelled as bad as the lingering aura of a cigarette.
"Yeah, whatever boss." he shuffled his feet and picked up the camera. He twisted his brown cap to show me its back side, wiped off the sweat that accumulated around his forehead.
"Still feels good to be finally in the field with the famous Jake Gerard.." he said almost sarcastically. I didn't mind the comment. I got used to that after the big channel pirated me from my old local news channel. It was pretty cool to be upgraded or even recognized in a pool full of sharks that could chop your head off.
Wasn't fun either. Sure, my friends and family were psyched that I got to go national with a stint like this, but a whole lot of good things comes your way your bound to catch a little piece of shit that ruins your whole experience. But I'll talk about that later, probably.
"Whatever, Neil." I replied, obviously sarcastic.
It was 10am, perfect time for asshole comments and bad moments.
It was late last night that we got the most auspicious of assignments. Since I was the new guy, the channel wanted me to make a story that would be lighthearted and well, rememberable. In other words, the news that nobody wanted; the news that wasn't news.
It wasn't an old technique though; channels do that all the time. Back when I was a local reporter my first assignment was to do a piece about a dance group that was composed of out of school boys who were trying to steer clear from trouble. Sure it was a tear jerker piece and all that, I made sure that it would be. After the story got aired in the local channel, I soon became 'that guy who was kinda cute and had a heart'. After that one story I began to make all kinds of inspiring stories in the town when finally, the channel put me at the very end of the show. I'm the guy who tells you that life is good after other washouts tell you that the stocks are going down or a girl had been raped.
Funny thing about those street kids are that after I did their piece, I took them out to drinks and paid for their lap-dances. Just trying to give back to the society in my own way.
Neil and I got into the company car and drove to the story assigned to us. Since it was nearing the new year, the channel told me to do a piece about a self- proclaimed prophet up town. I had no idea about where that was so I asked Neil if it were cool if he drove.
Neil was alright. I only met him a couple of days ago when my boss introduced me to him. Said we were going to be partners of course. His camera-men friends of his probably talked shit about me after that although it was cool. I didn't mind criticisms. I mean if you allow yourself to be aired on TV, you ought to be alright with people judging you without much intellect behind it. Neil was a reasonably tall fellow; probably around 40 years old with a whole lot of experience under his belt. I wasn't worried about it. I was glad I had someone who t least knew how to avoid traffic in this new city of mine. He had long brown hair underneath his dirty truckers cap. He smelled of stale cigarettes and a broken marriage; my kind of guy. Lots of stories behind the man. Twenty minutes in, old reliable broke the silence.
"So Jake Gerard," he started. Here it comes I thought.
"Mind if I smoke?"
"No go ahead. I'll join you."
I smoked Marlboro Lights, he smoked the same. Touche.
I lit mine when he lit his, and I dragged on my stick while yanking the window to open.
We talked about the city, mostly. I just wanted to know where the watering holes were and how I could catch some tail with the local girls. I just joked about that last one though, I didn't know shit about picking up women.
Took us around forty minutes to get to where we were going. I didn't bother to memorize the way there. I took out my little notebook and started to list down specific details about the location I shouldn't forget. But it wasn't the specifics that I was paying attention to, it was the air of the place.
"Are we up a mountain or something?" I asked Neil.
"No, chief. The air is just thin around here I think."
We were looking for an old shack between two major highways. The city tried to buy off the land from our prophet but he never did give it up. The city just decided to build around it, which was convenient for the prophet. Now he had a market of a wide range of translate going to and fro. At least he didn't have to go to the city to spread the news.
I was told that the prophet would write down all his prophecies on a blackboard in huge letters and bullet form all his prophecies.
One of my favorites that he wrote down would be:
" -Earthquake in LA in 20 Days
-Blackout in Manila for two days
-You will...."
And on the other side it said:
" -...turn your head."
Twenty days later, reports of a minor quake were reported near LA and Metro Manila with some major cities in the Philippines experienced one of the nation's worst power outages ever.
Eventually we found the house. And I didn't know it at that time, or wouldn't ever, well not for a long time at least, discover that that moment would be the start of the greatest thing that could happen to a person; to me.
Chief. I hate it when he calls me chief. Makes me feel old; doesn't seem like I deserve to be called chief. Heck, being 30 sucks balls but that doesn't mean you should be okay with other people call you 'chief'. Well at least not today.
Today I woke up on the right side of the bed, but when I looked around to check the view, seemed like everything was topsy turvy. Wasn't nice to look at, or even feel like I got everything good and the whole world was messed. I didn't want to think like I was different from the rest of these mother fuckers around here. It's good to feel good when you wake in the morning, just don't feel too good, you douche.
"I hate it when you call me that, Neil."
My words smelled as bad as the lingering aura of a cigarette.
"Yeah, whatever boss." he shuffled his feet and picked up the camera. He twisted his brown cap to show me its back side, wiped off the sweat that accumulated around his forehead.
"Still feels good to be finally in the field with the famous Jake Gerard.." he said almost sarcastically. I didn't mind the comment. I got used to that after the big channel pirated me from my old local news channel. It was pretty cool to be upgraded or even recognized in a pool full of sharks that could chop your head off.
Wasn't fun either. Sure, my friends and family were psyched that I got to go national with a stint like this, but a whole lot of good things comes your way your bound to catch a little piece of shit that ruins your whole experience. But I'll talk about that later, probably.
"Whatever, Neil." I replied, obviously sarcastic.
It was 10am, perfect time for asshole comments and bad moments.
It was late last night that we got the most auspicious of assignments. Since I was the new guy, the channel wanted me to make a story that would be lighthearted and well, rememberable. In other words, the news that nobody wanted; the news that wasn't news.
It wasn't an old technique though; channels do that all the time. Back when I was a local reporter my first assignment was to do a piece about a dance group that was composed of out of school boys who were trying to steer clear from trouble. Sure it was a tear jerker piece and all that, I made sure that it would be. After the story got aired in the local channel, I soon became 'that guy who was kinda cute and had a heart'. After that one story I began to make all kinds of inspiring stories in the town when finally, the channel put me at the very end of the show. I'm the guy who tells you that life is good after other washouts tell you that the stocks are going down or a girl had been raped.
Funny thing about those street kids are that after I did their piece, I took them out to drinks and paid for their lap-dances. Just trying to give back to the society in my own way.
Neil and I got into the company car and drove to the story assigned to us. Since it was nearing the new year, the channel told me to do a piece about a self- proclaimed prophet up town. I had no idea about where that was so I asked Neil if it were cool if he drove.
Neil was alright. I only met him a couple of days ago when my boss introduced me to him. Said we were going to be partners of course. His camera-men friends of his probably talked shit about me after that although it was cool. I didn't mind criticisms. I mean if you allow yourself to be aired on TV, you ought to be alright with people judging you without much intellect behind it. Neil was a reasonably tall fellow; probably around 40 years old with a whole lot of experience under his belt. I wasn't worried about it. I was glad I had someone who t least knew how to avoid traffic in this new city of mine. He had long brown hair underneath his dirty truckers cap. He smelled of stale cigarettes and a broken marriage; my kind of guy. Lots of stories behind the man. Twenty minutes in, old reliable broke the silence.
"So Jake Gerard," he started. Here it comes I thought.
"Mind if I smoke?"
"No go ahead. I'll join you."
I smoked Marlboro Lights, he smoked the same. Touche.
I lit mine when he lit his, and I dragged on my stick while yanking the window to open.
We talked about the city, mostly. I just wanted to know where the watering holes were and how I could catch some tail with the local girls. I just joked about that last one though, I didn't know shit about picking up women.
Took us around forty minutes to get to where we were going. I didn't bother to memorize the way there. I took out my little notebook and started to list down specific details about the location I shouldn't forget. But it wasn't the specifics that I was paying attention to, it was the air of the place.
"Are we up a mountain or something?" I asked Neil.
"No, chief. The air is just thin around here I think."
We were looking for an old shack between two major highways. The city tried to buy off the land from our prophet but he never did give it up. The city just decided to build around it, which was convenient for the prophet. Now he had a market of a wide range of translate going to and fro. At least he didn't have to go to the city to spread the news.
I was told that the prophet would write down all his prophecies on a blackboard in huge letters and bullet form all his prophecies.
One of my favorites that he wrote down would be:
" -Earthquake in LA in 20 Days
-Blackout in Manila for two days
-You will...."
And on the other side it said:
" -...turn your head."
Twenty days later, reports of a minor quake were reported near LA and Metro Manila with some major cities in the Philippines experienced one of the nation's worst power outages ever.
Eventually we found the house. And I didn't know it at that time, or wouldn't ever, well not for a long time at least, discover that that moment would be the start of the greatest thing that could happen to a person; to me.
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