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Tina tapped her pen on the table, her eyes narrowing as she focused on the writer’s round table in front of her. There was some real discussion happening and she had made a bunch of notes as well as identifying which writers she might want to work with in the future.
Tina loved this part of the job, she loved how random words came together to create sentences that invoked feeling in the listener or viewer. One word here or there could alter the entire message.
They were engaging in a type of impromptu script writing where the Table Lead was firing scenarios at them while each writer took turns giving their version of the dialogue that would happen next. The table applauded one young writer who took a truly dull scene and made it into something beautiful with the use of rhymed dialogue that was part prose and all wit.
Good writers were hard to find, and Tina was enjoying this exercise. Except for one thing.
Sitting next to her, he kept writing her messages on his notepad then pushing it over so she could read them. He was clearly bored with the entire process. So obvious. So stupid. So middle school. “This meeting would be better if we had drinks…” or “Save a dance for me tonight!”
She shifted to the other side of her chair, putting as much distance between them as possible, pushing his notebook back towards him and almost off the table.
There was a knock on the door and a young hotel employee stuck his head in. “Excuse me everyone” he said politely, “is there a Tina Kennard in this room? She is needed at the front desk…”
Everyone turned to look at her as Tina rose and pocketed her cell phone.
“I am told it will take some time to resolve this matter…” the young man said, almost apologetically.
“I’ll just take my things then…” She looked at the writers and handed each her card. “Call me”, she said, even though she had only identified a few that she really wanted to talk to.