Rules? What Rules?

It was a Thursday evening in March. I was driving west across the Courtney Campbell Causeway and the sun had just dipped into the Gulf of Mexico. Sweat was in my eyes and I wanted to get back to my hotel, down a Bud and change. That's when I got the call.

"Ted, it's Gail. Where are you just now?" Oh dear, my editor. Gail had been a seasoned reporter in her day, with a Pulitzer nose and no sense of humour. A real stickler for responsible journalism. Hah!

"Nearly back at the Marriott. Why?" Straight away I thought something was up. That cold beer was calling me. How I wanted the first gulp, numbing my throat and stinging my sinuses. I wiped my lips with the back of my hand and thought of just hanging up. Not worth the aggro.

"Are you serious about this Clearwater thing? Your copy reads well, but you've taken a ... let's call it a controversial angle. Are your sources reliable."

"Can I call you back in twenty? I'm parched and drenched with sweat."

"No. We go to print in half an hour and I'm not running something that'll invite a lawsuit unless I know it's legit."

I pulled into the car park and left the engine running. The aircon was fighting a losing battle but better than standing out there. Even through the window I could hear the cacophony; bugs waiting in ambush. I called her back.

"Yes, all off-the-record, two from local council members, three from the Chamber of Commerce and a doozy from the mayor's office in Tampa. That's about as good as it gets."

"Did you ask who might speak up, Ted."

"Of course I did. It was a list of the usual suspects. That's why no one would give their name."

"I don't know, Ted. I always like to have someone who doesn't mind the heat, you know, standing out front of the camera."

Heat was right, though that's not what she meant. Two days of these stifling temperatures and I'm almost on my knees. And who wants to be on the record backing the Playboy brigade?

"Good luck with that, Gail."

"We've got a substantial readership that might agree with the Council. You're making it a political issue, not a moral one. City Hall Wages War on the Free Market."

"I think attractive girls selling watermelon by the roadside is a worthy cause, even if their bikinis are smaller than my face mask."

"Think that might be personal bias, Ted? I'm not sure it's a story for the business pages."

"Are you kidding. All those red-blooded commercial lechers and that picture I sent. She's almost naked and look at those watermelons she's holding."

"Alright Ted. Your head if it backfires."

That beer was so good. Oh! And my story went viral as protesters took to the streets. My readership went crazy and Gail let me take a more liberal stance. I still recall that sunset.

[WC:499]