at the paper. There was nothing listed on the contents page. She was going to have to go through the whole damn paper. Tim went for the cash drawer.
“What are you doing reading already? You haven’t even started any coffee!” Tim said. “Jesus, how am I going to wake up before the customers come in?”
“Chew on a bean,” Heathen said. “Hey, can you start the pots? I’m looking for something here.”
He grumbled something behind her back about checking the movie reviews later and banged the pots around more loudly than he really had to. Heathen flipped page after page of the paper but didn’t see any ski story. Damn. Maybe they’d put it off to next week. “There was supposed to be a Whistler story in here,” she told Tim. “I might have been mentioned in it, but it’s not here.”
“They probably axed it for another story on that big poverty demonstration last week in Stanley Park,” he said. “Local politics beats out ski bums every time, you know.”
The first customers bumbled in, looking as rough as Tim, so Heathen had to put the Straight aside for a while. The stream stayed steady, so she didn’t get back to it for an hour. By then, about half the top bundle in the newspaper rack had gone, so Heathen was anxious to finish getting through the issue so she would know if she had to commandeer a large chunk of the ones that were left.
The high life of aerialists appeared to have been too lightweight for this issue. The only sign that the reporter had even been in town was a short item in one of the regular columns that recommended books, movies, clubs, and so forth. In the “Websights” part of the section, was one small thing that had come up in conversation with the reporter:
WATCH THIS SPACE
Hero or Anti?
A curious blog has caught the eye of the Straight. A self-titled Hero of the Teeming Masses dispenses his own brand of weird mental wanderings at www.heroblog.rawblawgs.com. Before you think that “hero” means noble and virtuous, think again. The HOTM admits to being a lowly BlackArts Coffee barista in his non-cyber life, but, refreshingly for a blog, offers no other personal details. We don’t know what he had for breakfast this morning, or what he thinks of the latest movie blockbuster. He offers up his own brand of wisdom and/or platitude (take your pick) and is as inclined to encourage his readers (that’s you, you Teeming Masses) to such salutary acts as “Gather unto you some canned goods” to drop off at the nearest BlackArts on a particular Saturday for the local food bank, or to something as jaw-droppingly audacious as “Let’s give the gangbangers marksmanship lessons. Then they’d stop hitting innocent bystanders.” Is he posturing for effect? Fed up, or just F’ed up? Feel free to vent in his forum, but don’t expect an answer from him. His semi-regular signoff, “watch this space”, is an apt one. You do not know what he will come up with next.
Needless to say, Heathen was miffed. But she held out hope for next week and prayed for no local political firestorm. She felt vindicated though, when a number of people posted to the Heroblog forum, as outraged as she had been.
• • •
The Hero sees what he sees, and the Hero says what he says. That is all.
The forums continued to jump, pro-Hero and con.
The Hero is unable to answer all personal e-mails, so the Hero answers none. Don’t bother asking. It wouldn’t be fair to the other children.
• • •
Memo to: BlackArts Zone Offices District Managers, Human Resources Managers
From: Chief Information Officer, Seattle HQ
CC: Deputy General Counsel
Re: “The Hero of the Teeming Masses”
________________________________________________
All Zone Offices are advised that an individual claiming to be a BlackArts employee and calling himself “The Hero of the Teeming Masses” has established a weblog or “blog” (i.e. online diary) at www.heroblog.rawblawgs.com. A reference on this weblog has already been made to “...the lame and ubiquitous BlackArts.”
The purpose of the blog is unclear, however, Information Systems and Legal here at Corporate are monitoring the content should it become defamatory to BlackArts or otherwise actionable. At this time, in our push to expand further into the Midwest and “Bible belt” areas, and the question of rebranding in the face of negative focus group testing to date of the name “BlackArts”, any additional damaging perception of the company is to be avoided at all costs.
As it has not yet been determined if the individual is indeeda BlackArts barista, or merely posing as one, Zone office HR Managers are also encouraged to make discreet enquiries with retail managers as to the likelihood of any specific employee in their particular store being the originator of this weblog and online personality. Unfortunately, the store location cannot be narrowed down, as the domain host for www.heroblog. rawblawgs.com is not required to reveal customer details without a court order, and as of this writing, Legal has not yet identified a cause for action.
Guiding Principle Number One in the BlackArts Mission Statement: Respect each other’s rights and foster a positive workplace experience for everyone.
• • •
Dag and Heathen were closing up again the following night when Tim wandered in. Heathen was dragging her ass on the cleaning, which she knew was frustrating Dag, who just wanted to get done for the day. Now here was Tim, twelve hours early, like he was in a different time zone. “You set your alarm wrong?” Dag said. “You’re not on until tomorrow.” Heathen didn’t say anything. Especially not to Tim. She really didn’t want this to be happening.
Tim pulled himself an espresso. “Thought I’d come in for a shot before you guys shut down.” He grabbed a chair. Heathen scrubbed harder at a dried-on ring of caramel. She had a bad feeling about this.
Dag took the bags of garbage out back to the dumpster. Heathen was just about to say something to Tim when KateLynn showed up too. “Hey, Heathen, Tim,” she said. She went straight to the pastry case.
“What are you doing?” Heathen asked, hoping she sounded testy. She’d told them it was a bad idea, and that she wasn’t going to do it on her off time. Now it looked like they were going to rope her in by association anyway.
“Looking for something past its death date.”
“The women’s shelter has already picked that stuff up,” Heathen said. “The rest of that’s saleable. Paws off.”
“Listen to you,” KateLynn said, completely unfazed.
“Hey, KateLynn,” Dag said, sounding surprised to see her as he came back in.
“Hey, Dag,” KateLynn said. Oblivious to Heathen’s glare, she grabbed a biscotti from the big jar on the counter, plonked it on a plate, and took it to the same table Tim was sitting at.
“Don’t you guys have lives?” Dag asked.
“Just ignore them,” Heathen said, wringing her cloth out like she wanted to wring some necks.
“Make sure you clean