2023-10-03 - You've Got to be S**ting Me

"You've got to be shitting me."

Eddie sits slouched in his chair in front of the desk as the interviewer pages through his actual printed-out portfolio. The pictures are at complete odds with the cheerful purple and pale blue decor of the Spellbound Park HR department: scenes of crisis, of disaster, of conflict, of violence, of grief, and of relief. Then again, the HR person probably isn't supposed to be cursing in an interview either, but the words just burst out of her lips.

"No ma'am." Eddie's response is quiet, minimal. "I'm responding to your ad for a park photographer."

"But you've got a Pulitzer," the woman protests, then starts looking around, "This is one of those hidden camera bits, isn't it?"

"No ma'am," This time, there's a bit of a wan smile on Eddie's face, "I don't have a Pulitzer. I have a Robert Capa Gold Medal from the Overseas Press Club. Those pictures are in the portfolio too."

She looks down at the simple black cardstock of the portfolio, then back up at Eddie, "Mr. Lightner, you know that this job doesn't pay as well as you're used to, right?"

"You might be surprised at how little that sometimes pays. But that's okay, ma'am."

"And you would be taking the same picture over and over for hours at a time? And dealing with families and kids?"

"Yes ma'am. I have references for my behavior in stressful situations. Lieutenant Colonel Olmos might be a little hard to reach, but he can vouch for me. So can Sergeant First Class Rierson, and..." he gestures to the printed resume and references list tucked atop the glossy photographs in the portfolio.

Now the interviewer is casting around for the trap, what might bring a renowned photojournalist to a relatively new theme park. Something between realization and suspicion alights in her eyes, and she leans forward slightly, "You understand, Mr. Lightner, that anything you see, hear, or do at the park would be covered under your NDA, right?"

Eddie has already followed that train of thought, and he nods slightly, "I understand, ma'am. I'm not here to do a story. I just want a job."

Stymied from her search for the downside, the interviewer hesitates a moment longer, and then nods, "Okay, Mr. Lightner. Welcome to the Spellbound family. We'll need to see your ID, get your contract and NDA signed, and begin training -- " she pauses, clearing her throat, " -- corporate training, I mean. I don't suppose that you need job training."

This time, Eddie's smile is real, crooked, and a little bit brilliant, "No ma'am, I do not."

Eddie stands in the middle of the Central Court of Portals, watching families flow along the violent brick pathways, their chatter filling the space with a joyous clamor. Hitching up the battered duffel on his shoulder, he draws in a sharp breath and lets it out so very slowly indeed. His attention is drawn to the uniformed photographers cheerfully taking pictures of families whether the children are beaming or crying. His attention comes back to one particularly enthusiastic young employee who is making a family's day all the brighter -- despite still having the lens cap on his camera.

"You've got to be shitting me."