Remember when I did that freelance gig for The New York Post back during the week of all the Sanford craziness? I covered the press conference (THE press conference, the one where everything came tumbling down) for them and worked some sources for a couple of days.
Thing is, I’ve never gotten paid for that. Finally, I think we’ve got that worked out — I may receive a check in the mail today — but before it got totally resolved, I just wanted to use that headline, because it amuses me. (I’m hearing it in the voice of Bill Murray in “Stripes,” saying to the cute MP outside Gen. Barnicke’s house saying, “Barnicke? Barnicke?! He still owes me money. Hey Barney?…”)
Once the check has been deposited, Rupert will be my bestest buddy. And it will make me feel a bit better when someone calls me from the Post for guidance on the Sanford saga (as someone did just a few days ago — the day Jenny moved out of the mansion, in fact).
If I continue in this freelance floater mode much longer, I may need to have to hire somebody to be my collector. I’m used to just getting a paycheck and not thinking about it. Dunning people is tiring work, and I think I’d prefer to outsource it. Not my core competency, and other business cliches, yadda-yadda …