Waking Up in Vegas(2)

Maybe they’re just going to reduce The Pulse’s Morning Crew to the Morning Two… God knows, cost-cutting and staff-cutting in this biz has run rampant for the last few years. Except in larger money markets like Vegas. It’s our hard-working asses bringing the big shiny dollars to Cirrus Radio Corporation which keeps the smaller stations afloat. And I am the biggest cash cow in this city. Stations in Denver and Des Moines ought to be thanking me that they all still have jobs.

So I’m not modest. But I can’t afford to be. Everything I do is public (well, almost, but I’d let you watch…) and it all reflects on this station and the ad revenue I pull in. So if that makes me a little narcissistic, so be it. There are people all over this country depending on me to not embarrass myself.

Unless it’s intentional.

Like the kissing booth at the annual Save the Ta-Tas cancer fundraiser. I love titties. So when they asked me to pull a shift, not only was it a no-brainer, I upped the ante and put on red lipstick for every kiss just so I could leave a mark. And it was quite the sacrifice, because I hate lipstick.

Unless I’m wearing it second-hand. On my dick.

Aw, come on. I’m a guy. You knew my dick would have to show its head sometime.

It’s my most prized possession.

Second, of course, is my hybrid Camry. What, shocked that I’d own a hybrid? It’s cleaner, and I like breathing. It’s of monumental importance to my profession.

Now, back to my penis.

My eyes are up here, sweetheart. You keep staring, and he’s gonna want to do more than just say hello. He might expect a handshake. Or a kiss, maybe a massage…

Crap. Just when it’s getting fun, here comes Milo busting back in, and he has a box. Time to be the concerned workmate.

Wait… he’s grinning. And skipping. Pretty sure Milo’s gay. Despite the girlfriend.

“I got it!” He was practically shouting as he plopped his headphones into the box and swept his collection of Happy Meal toys in after them.

I hated those things, so I’m glad they’re leaving, but what the hell is he talking about?

“What the hell are you talking about?”

He scanned the room for anything else that screamed Milo. “The Pulse! I’m taking over for Bryce, starting on Monday morning. They want him to introduce me as the new primary host, so I’ll be in with The Crew after today.”

Great. He’ll be one of three, and I’ll be flying solo. Not that I mind, but it means that I’ll have to pay more attention and do everything, which’ll cut into my time people watching out the studio door. And to see how short those people’s skirts are. That Laurelle in Sales had a set of legs I’d love to see wrapped around my waist.

“Congratulations. But I thought you hated Top 40?”

“I’ll just take my headphones off. Nobody says I have to listen to what I play.”

Oh, so for them, he’ll not only uncover one ear, but both? What was I, a dog turd on his shoe?

Milo hopped in place. Yes, really. “So now we’ll be up against each other for numbers. Direct competition, buddy.”

Buddy? He actually used buddy in a sentence? “Don’t hate me when I kick your ass. With or without a co-host,” I said.

“Oh, you’re getting one. While I was in his office, BK took a call from someone he called Jensen. Apparently, the guy’s been delayed and won’t be in town until next weekend. BK told him to be sure to arrive before 5:30 so you can buzz him in, since he won’t have an access card yet.”

So I had no say in my co-host. Figures. Well, I hope this new guy likes rock-and-roll and women. If not, we won’t have a lot to talk about off-air.

Hell, I don’t know how much we’ll have to talk about on-air, at least that first day. How in the hell am I supposed to entertain listeners with small talk when I’ll only be meeting the guy five minutes before air-time? But I’m a professional. I can wing it with the best of them.





Chapter 2




*99 Problems*



In retrospect, that entire weekend was kind of blurry. Even though I was mostly sober. As far as you know.

The whole work situation was nagging at me. It’s not that I can’t handle doing the show on my own–I can. Until my current morning gig at KLVR, I’d always done some afternoon shift, just me talking to the walls and watching the halls for a skirt that was a bit too microscopic for the workplace. At my last radio station, there was this one secretary who’d always dressed too tight and too short…

I really liked her.

I’d knocked out the recordings of my weekend broadcasts in about an hour, then went home and slept ‘til sunset with Lita, my part-Lab mutt. She was hogging most of the bed and trying to shove me off my pillow. She knows that she’s my number one girl and, because of that, I normally let her get away with almost anything.