Wednesday, February 11, 2009

Cunning stunt.

I had a boss back in the day so in love with himself, so free of humility, so damn cuntish he would have made your head itch.*

This Cavanic epitome off all things vile was, and is, a good friend of mine. I took pints with him then, I take ale with him now, and he grabs every opportunity to remind me of those days when, shudder, "I was your BOSS!"

They were the days when I was the Entertainment Editor in Setanta Towers. I'd piss off at random to film screenings while the rest of the oiks would be stuck writing up match previews. I'd review albums sent me to me by the nice publicity people while my colleagues scribbled down injury news for the masses.

It was a pretty sweet number, even if I did have to cover the daily Britney Spears briefings and Must See TV listings. Rough with the smooth.

I was sat opposite him, the Big Boss Man, and we'd gas about our days and poke fun at the sorry excuses for journalysis sent to him by willing, opportunistic yet barely literate college leavers.

An idea struck me.

With Liverpool stuck in a perennial funk under Gerard Houllier, I fixed upon an idea for a football feature that might fit well on the site. Under my own guise it would probably go up straight away, even though my brief had moved on to the arts, and I'd never know if it was any good or not.

With that, and a crippling need for validation at all times, in mind I wrote the piece and sent it to Big Boss Man under a pseudonym. The pseudonym was Paul Stafford.

I clicked send and waited. And waited. And waited until I studied himself. His face was clearly fixed on the article.

About ten minutes later he called for my attention.

"Radge, I've just been sent a feature. I think this lad may have something about him. Will you have a read and get back to me?"

I feigned indignation, like I was too busy to be doing his donkeywork, but agreed to take a look.

"Mail it to me, I'll have a gander."

I tutted through it, frowned a bit, smiled in places, gave it the once over. The twice over, even.

"I think it's pretty good."

"Yeah, I think so too. A bit basic in places ("basic? BASIC??? You cunt!") but it might do for us."

I waited again. I had Paul Stafford's email account open in front of me, hitting refresh for all I was worth until, finally, a response.

He offered me (Paul) a job. "Come in and see me," said Big Boss Man. "We'll work something out." He couldn't offer much, just a shift or two for sussing out purposes, but a job nonetheless.

My face being a dead giveaway, I bolted straight for the jacks and a quiet, jolly tug.**

I went back to my desk where the realisation came to me that I'd have to turn the fucking job down, having applied for it not an hour earlier. I made up some bullshit about not being able to work until the following June, and let it lie.

Weeks later, I asked Big Boss Man if he'd followed up about that article, the one about Liverpool being shit.

"Yeah, I offered him work and he gave me some bullshit about finishing a fucking course first. Why you'd apply for a job if you're unavailable is beyond me."


"Some people!" I spat.

"Some people," he replied.

- - - - - -


**OK, not a tug, just an overwhelming whoop of mischief and artfuldodginess.


Susan said...

Ha! God you can't trust this internet thingie as far as you can throw it, can you?

So did you come clean after that, or is he going to learn your part on it right here?

Funny one.

Radge said...

Nah, I told him after, well, a year or two.

hope said...

It's official. I'm boring.

Then again, maybe I ought to just send some material of my own. Naw. The commute from here to there would kill me. ;)

Terence McDanger said...

Arghhhhhh! Scarlet! Snared!

With great affection, I denounce you as a rapscallious* cunt.

You're some backstard alright but I did get you back with that 'review' I wrote a while later. Or was it before? I can't remember who was getting who back but who cares, good laughs.

*nice use of rapscallious.

Radge said...

Yes, oh yes, I recall. You'll have to try and dig that one out.


Nice use of the asterisk.

Anonymous said...

Asterisks, what can't they do?

Kath Lockett said...

But why didn't you take the job? Would have bought you a few more pints, surely?

adogwoof said...

What's Paul Stafford doing now?

RedLeeroy said...

man I wish I was a journo, whooping it up in the jacks, using words like rapscallious and wearing manly shirts. Sigh.....assistant ape #6 is all I can hope for.

Radge said...

Kath - I checked the small print. They only employ those corporeal.

AG - Good question. He's repeating for the fifth year in a row. He likes the student life.

Red - Sure isn't it great that we have jobs at all, recession recession, credit cru.. recession.

Anonymous said...

Get your facts right. You wrote it about Benitez and his deteriorating English whenever Liverpool lost.

Radge said...

Nah, Anonymous, that came later.