Journalism Doing It For Money

Getting the Milk Free No More

(Editor’s Note: Larry Blasko said has this exclusive report of a conversation between Internet and a bartender moments after the split with Journalism. It was provided by a blogger on condition of anonymity.)

“Set ‘em up Joe,” Internet said gloomily, and Joe the Bartender knew better than to do anything but pour.

“Like that!” Internet said with a snap of fingers. “Fifteen years like that!” He took most of the first drink in a gulp, eyed the sorry remainder and then tossed it down, shoving the glass towards Joe.

“Again, Pal, and don’t let it get empty for a while.”

“Troubles with Journalism?” Joe asked, finishing another pour and pushing the run-a-tab key on the register.

“Big troubles,” Internet nodded as more booze joined the first. “End of the road kind of troubles, Joe, end of the road.”

“But I thought you two were so solid!” Joe said with more than professional amazement. “You guys were together so long, I mean everybody knows you and Journalism are a couple. . .”

“Were a couple,” Internet corrected. “I got my butt kicked out, Joe, and the last words I heard were ‘My way or the highway!’ so I don’t think this one’s gonna get fixed. And it was so close to our anniversary, too,” he added, pointing again to the glass.

“That’s tough,” Joe said. “I knew you guys had been together a long time, but I never knew the date you made it official.” He punched another one into the register.

“Well,” Internet mumbled staring into his glass “we never really did make it official official you know, but still. . .”

“Oh,” Joe said “but still, I can remember the two of you being together through all sorts of things, and I just thought that you’d always. . . well, anyway, maybe it was just a fight and it’ll heal over.”

“No,” Internet said. “I don’t think this one is going to heal, Joe. I just don’t think..” Internet stopped to look at the mostly empty tables behind the bar. No one seemed to be listening, but Internet’s voice was low anyway.

“It’s like this, Joe, but you gotta promise not to tell a word to anyone else, okay? I wouldn’t want this getting around. Promise?”

“Sure, I promise” Joe said getting ready to add one more to his store of boozy confidences.

“Yeah…” Joe sighed, then continued. “You know how it is when you’ve been together a long time, don’t you Joe? I mean you get into a routine, and maybe it’s a little dull, but it’s comfortable, too, you know? And that’s the way it was with Journalism and me.” He pointed to his glass again.

“And I gotta admit, Joe, I really didn’t see it coming.” He added as the glass was refilled. “I mean tonight was a night like any other, and I was there and Journalism was beside me like we had been for so many nights, and I reached over and. . .”

Joe knew better than to say anything, but his look was prompting and Internet continued in a rush:

“And then Journalism said ‘Okay but you gotta pay for it!’”

“No!” Joe snapped in disbelief. “Journalism? Selling it?”

“’Fraid so,” Internet said. “I thought Journalism was kidding at first, and said I wasn’t the kind that paid for it. “ Internet shook his head and finished another drink.

“She wasn’t kidding. She said if I wasn’t the kind that paid for it, I wouldn’t be the kind getting it and things got worse after that. . .” Internet looked for sympathy from Joe, who still looked thunderstruck. “Now what, Joe? Now what?”

This time Joe reached for two glasses and poured them both a strong one.

“I don’t know, Pal,” Joe said raising his glass in salute. “I don’t know, but I don’t think it’s gonna be good for either of you.”

“Amen,” Internet agreed and downed his drink. “Amen.”

###