It took me a long time to get this up today. Your television is an appliance. You might be seeing it the next day. I hope you’ll check out today’s story if this is yesterday’s story for you. Then it’s almost like a twofer. Not really, though, just one per day.
Preston is assigned to paint a location overnight. It might be two nights, but probably one. He has a cool gig with a company that scales as a national painting company. He hits the road all over the place and paints salons, phone stores, and all kinds of franchise offices. Tonight he's at a News Station. His company had landed a deal for the real estate of a major media operation.
He’s in a utility area, loading in his tools, he knows where he’s going to be working. It’s the off camera walls of the studio. He’ll just determine whether he’ll brush and roll, or spray, and then probably get this thing knocked out in a few hours.
As he walks down the hallways to get to the studio, Preston is impressed with the portraits of the newsreaders, some of them legends, displayed along the walls. There’s Julie Fallfort, Joey Rider, and legendary Sports Reporter, Dick Toupee. Preston can’t believe this humble job has brought him here.
“I almost feel like somebody.” Preston hears himself say, as he stands in the middle of the hallway. Now however, he has to make his way to the studio, to get the work done.
Preston surmises just about what he expected. An essentially straightforward brush and roll with some detail work around some rafters and plumbing.
“Wow, there's wear it all happens.”
He says as he sees the camera placements and the stage, off work hours. He thinks something looks weird. There’s no one sitting at the desk, but he sees legs beneath the desk. He, somewhat spooked, carefully walks closer, bent forward, squinting. He sees legs, they are wrong. They’re the legs of a clown, but there’s no one sitting at the desk.
Calling his supervisor this late at night is not an ideal thing, but he knows they assume it must be important if they get a call this late. That’s what Preston does.
“What’s the deal, Preston, you’re not having an anxiety attack over nothing again, are you?” The voice on the phone says.
“I don’t think so, this is really weird. I hate being here right now. There’s clownpants bro. It’s just sitting at the desk. It’s clownpants under the desk, and nothing from the waist up. It’s just invisible, homestead.”
“I don’t understand, what the heck are you saying?” The supervisor says.
“I’m saying it’s creepy, bro. It’s like there’s someone there, but they’re not. It’s just clownpants bro. Like I said, it’s clownpants under the desk and nothing from the waist up.”
The voice on the phone remains confused, but impatient. “Can you just send me a picture?”
Preston points his phone at the desk pants, he gets a shot and fires it up the chain. “You got that big guy?” He asks the phone.
“Oh my goodness, you need to get out of there.” His super says. “Look, just go straight back out, you can take your stuff or leave it for now. Let me call and we’ll check in tomorrow.”
They hang up, and Preston goes back to the utility area and gets all his things. He’d really rather not come back. He’ll wait to hear from corporate before doing anything.
The next morning, Preston is just waking up in a modest Hotel room when gets a call from his super.
“Hey man, I just talked to the people over there, and I told them what was happening. I sent the picture, and they told me they didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. Do you think you can just scootch back over there tonight and get that all buttoned up?”
“I suppose I can.” Preston says. “Considering, everyone understands the situation.”
The End618 Words
