Deejay By the
Numbers
by Michael C.
Keith
Take
a little time ––count five and twenty.
–– Charles Dickens
“One, five, ten. There! Perfect
spacing.”
“No. If it were zero, five, ten,
it would be perfect spacing . . . jeez!
“C’mon, boss!”
“Can’t let you off the
hook that easy.”
“God, man, . . . give me a
break. One, five, ten’ is close enough.
Nearly perfect.”
“It’s either perfect
or it isn’t. You’re off by a
digit.”
“Well, crap, that’s
nothing. Give me another chance . . . please?”
“Why should I? You didn’t
deserve the first chance for what you did.”
“I know . . . I know. I
blew the backtiming to the network feed. I’m
usually fine talking up to the post. Run a tight
board.”
“Not tight enough.”
“Look, just one more shot.
I’ll nail it for sure”
“Okay, three digit spacing over
a hundred. Go!”
“Ah, damn . . . that’s hard!
Okay . . . okay, one hundred-one, one hundred-five,
one hundred-ten. Perfect spacing, right?”
“You’re an idiot, but what
did I expect. You’re off again. Did you go
to grade school?“
“Look, I need my midday air
shift. I’ll get tighter.”
“You’re doing midnight to
six until you learn to count.”
“The graveyard shift? I
can’t be on-the-air seven hours straight,
boss!”
“Get out!”
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