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Peddling Rubbish

Years ago I worked for a newspaper with a lot of satellite offices. It was a fact of life that the emergency services in each office's area were often reluctant to mention what they had been up to because they didn’t want the extra work that would be generated by media interest. But many were happy to mention events involving neighbouring stations. So, reporters used to call their colleagues in those neighbouring areas just to make sure they knew about these happenings. Except for one guy. He used to call the assistant editor-type people at head office. Guess who got the promotion to assistant editor type person. And who was the biggest creep at head office? As well as being a creep and all round nasty piece of work, he was also a pretentious snob of the first water. I remember once, after his ill- deserved promotion, reporting to him that for once there was nothing doing in my neck of the woods. "Nothing will come of nothing; speak again," he said to show off his expensive private education. I didn't have the heart to tell him they teach Shakespeare in the state schools too.

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