I was awakened by the sound of Aunt Sonia unlocking the door. And I had no trouble falling asleep, despite the sound of traffic outside the window. And even the excitement of being back in the big city didn’t keep my eyelids from drooping. I was beat, having been up before five that morning, meaning I got maybe three fitful hours of sleep. She was out, so I decided to catch a quick nap. If I report back to my mom that that’s where I took you, she’d disown me.” And do not, under any circumstances, make it one of the local luncheonettes. So, I’ve got money burning a hole in my pocket and what better way to spend it than taking my favorite aunt out to dinner.
And believe it or not, they actually pay me for what I do at the paper. “I appreciate it, Jakey, but you really don’t have to do that.” “Are you kidding? I want to do it.
“I’m sure you could use a home- cooked meal,” she said, then started to probe me for my favor- ite foods. That morning, as I was leaving for my interviews, my aunt asked what I’d like for dinner.
And I was sure my nerves showed, not especially what you want when you’re trying to impress someone and convince them you’re the right man for the job. I could tell they were looking for someone a little older, a little more experienced. That afternoon, it was the Herald Tribune’s turn and I didn’t think went quite as well. “I’d be happy to be the first,” I replied. “We don’t get many Ivy Leaguers wanting to work here,” the managing editor said. As much as I hated to admit it, I think they were impressed with my having gradu- ated from Yale. I walked out of there thinking I’d done pretty good. Both came from the same mold that gave us Dave Barrett and Bob Doering, my Litchfield bosses. I met with the managing editor, Bob Sheldon, and then he handed me over to Jack Sanders, the chief of the metro desk.
0 kommentar(er)
