Aaron Abrams was just in the neighborhood (aspidercan) wrote in musingslogs, @ 2011-04-30 00:59:00 |
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Entry tags: | lois lane, spider jerusalem, spider-man |
Who: Job, Max, and Aaron
What: Meeting the Newbie
Where: Seattle Times HQ
When: Thursday, 4/21 (Backdated so bad.)
Warnings: Job and Max are potty mouths. Aaron is ridiculously shiny.
Though Aaron was answering a number of questions and filling out several forms, his brain was on pause. He still couldn’t believe that he had secured the position, even before the official “contest” was over. His luck had been impeccable, and he wasn’t arrogant enough to think it was entirely due to his own skill. He’d been in the right place at the right time, though to his credit, that was aided by a spider-like predisposition for clinging to walls and hiding in dark corners no one bothered to check. In high school, he had often wished for the ability to turn invisible over spider webs, but now he was starting to think that they weren’t too different. Not really.
Jessamyn Jones had been kind enough to walk him through the process, showing him where to sign and what to write. By the time he was done, they’d burned at least an hour of daylight. (Or, in the case of the current weather, rainy cloud light.) And he was an official member of the Seattle Times staff, with his own media clearance and an assignment. He would be working under Maxine Main and Job Arakkis, two writers whose names he recognized immediately.
By the time the elevator opened on the floor where he would meet his two supervisors, Aaron was practically shaking with excitement. This was it. This was real life. He was walking into a real newspaper office, with a real job, and he was getting real coworkers. His Aunt Shelly would be getting a call the second this meeting was done, but in the meantime, he had to be professional and mature. Aaron was conscious of the fact that he could easily pass for a sophomore in high school, a trick he imagined he’d be grateful for when he was thirty. But at eighteen, he found most of his attempts at asserting his adulthood were foiled by the disease known as “babyface.”
He approached the desk space that Ms. Jones had mentioned, following her directions to a t. A man and a woman were sitting there, people he didn’t recognize - but the fact that there was one man and one woman was a good sign in of itself. He stopped a few feet from the desk, smiling brightly, and cleared his throat. “Excuse me?” he said cautiously, trying to shake the apprehension from his voice. “Ms. Main? Mr. Arakkis?” When neither of them looked confused by these names, he continued. “I’m Aaron Abrams, I just got a staff position here as a photographer and Ms. Jones in HR told me to come see you both.” He paused, holding his hand out immediately. Overall, he was dressed professionally - khakis and a collared shirt - with one exception. Both his wrists were covered in an assortment of bracelets that stacked at least two inches deep. “It’s an honor to meet you guys.”