aud’acious

This is the beginning of a story I was writing. I got the detail from being in a live newsroom as they were about to begin the evening newscast. All of this really happened (with different names) except for the offended person at the end of the the story. I added that for a little drama. To be continued…possibly.

9 May 2005

The news anchor sparkled past every technician and reporter in the hall on her way to make-up for the ten o’clock. A wave of highlighted hair dipped across her forehead. A lime green suit top and knee length skirt amplified her frame. Below her skirt muscular calves showed; no nylons, no heels. She didn’t work full time anymore. She set her own hours.

“You’re on at the :51,” someone yelled from the other room.

Taking her seat along side her equally make-up’ed co-host, she leaned over, wrinkled her nose, and whispered a low, “hi”. His face lifted a smile beyond its normal bounds. He wore sneakers.

Someone in their earpieces kept saying, “Grab the top and connect it into route 5XRL.” The dialogue box abruptly registered the script for the night. The camera technicians stopped swearing about the play offs. Under the lights the anchors were still talking about a trip last year. “Why is the weather always bad when I go to Tulsa?”

“You’re on in 5 direct to 3. 5…4…3…,” silence.

“You’re watching Channel 3 News. I’m Ken Goddard.”

“And I’m Ranee Hart. Salt Lake Police Chief…”

In another room a woman, short torso, black baggy pants, a cotton shirt with a throw-over buttoned once at the top, spoke endlessly into a microphone. At her fingertips, the controls; on the wall, twenty screens all busy. Two lay directly in front. “Loc 2 stand-by in 5…,” pause, “…install.” The left screen bounced to the right for broadcast. Over and again until she set her headphones down, leaned back in her chair, and breathed.

Ranee met her in the hall on the way back to the staging room. “Uh,” Ranee lifted her hand towards the woman, “I thought it went smooth tonight.” Her sentence ended slightly higher pitched than it began. The director kept her eyes fixed elsewhere, “Good.” She turned slightly, briefly met Ranee’s eyes, then continued walking toward the coat room.