My mission, (although I wasn’t really given a choice!) was to get in to placement for as near to nice as humanly possible when you have a adhesion to getting up on odd numbers!
I made it in just 10 minutes short of my target, which wasn’t bad for me considering I’d been at the pay and display machine on the car park, pushing tons of shrapnel in to in since 5 past.
I made a beeline for my desk.
Mike: “It’s your biggie today Nat.”
Mike: “Have you got all the numbers you need?”
Nat: “Errrr…(frantically flicking through my notebook) … no?”
Armed with pages of councillor numbers, and the number for Cannock Police, i embarked on my mission.
And boy was it tough.
Now you wouldn’t think that ringing people for a sentence or two would be particularly taxing…
But when those people (who you must have got hold of by 2pm) don’t appear to be on the face of the Earth, it’s a toughie!
I must have left about a dozen variations of the same drawl on the voicemail of a copper, councillor, and construction company, and awaited the ‘bite’.
I’ve never been fishing, but I imagine that I experienced something similar today.
Having speared the unsuspecting maggot with a sharp piece of metal, you thrust it into the ‘pond of P.R’, waiting for them to bite and give you what you want. Just a sentence. That’s all I need…Please?
Once the P.R pirranas began to bite they were all really helpful.
Actually I feel I must mention the sterling job a certain Jamie Somerfield did for me today, that was very much appreciated! (do keep reading my blog! It was nice to know I have a fan.)
Steam rose from Mike’s fingers as he worked tirelessly to get the paper in ship-shape before deadline, and even had chance to let me have a gander at this week’s lead…MINE!!
I was so chuffed to see my own article as the whole front page to a paper that I’ve loved reading for donkeys!
After the previous tension of the office died down, talk turned to the foreboding footie match, and Mike disappeared downstairs.
On appearing back in the office, he was clutching an ASDA carrier containing a couple of boxes of strawberries and a bottle of champers.
He kindly distributed the strawberries between staff, but held on to the champers. Heckles from fellow reporters urged him to share the latter aswell.
After a few minutes or so, he called me over.
“Nat can you just come over a sec”
I tottered over, presuming he was going to brief me on something for the following day…
“The champagne is yours.”
“Yes, the owner of that gym you did a story on last week brought it in for you just to say thank you.”
(In shock) “omg!”
Jan: “You mean to say, you’ve just given away Natalie’s strawberries?!”