About a week and a half ago, one of our freelancers let us know she hadn’t gotten a check from us. We followed up on this end, and it turns out that the check – for a tad under $1,000 – had been cashed at a bank in Utah by some guy named {Generic Guy’s Name}. (We’re in Penna., the freelancer is in Oregon.)
I actually participated in a few of the phone calls – with the freelancer and the Utah bank – one afternoon when neither my managing editor nor the person who cuts checks for us was here.
Got an email from the freelancer this morning, reporting that:
This is probably the only time I’ll have any connection whatsoever withh a story involving a stripper and a cross-country crime spree.
Please tell me there was an hour-long hand-wringing debate in your newsroom over whether to cover the crime spree in the pages of your pub and that at least one editor passionately pleaded, “Damnit, we don’t MAKE the news, we REPORT the news!” and that the assistant managing editor just as vehemently swore, “It’s not just our right to publish, it’s our duty to publish!”