Working at a newspaper that exists on severely limited funds has it's challenges.
The lights in the conference room are not working for some reason, and they have yet to be fixed. I had to do an interview of a high school kid regarding a club he is president of. Since he is under 21, I could not meet him at the local Tavern, where I have started to do my interviews to spare the people I interview having to deal with our spartan existence. (I love this place, but there's limits to what others should have to tolerate!)
Since I had limited time, I agreed to have this kid and his mother meet me at the office, and I took them to the back area which we have been using as our makeshift conference room since the idea of having to talk to people in the dark is a little odd.
Unfortunately this area is also where the circulation 'office' is located.
Right in the middle of the interview, the back door opens and this dripping wet troll of a woman shuffles inside. Dripping wet! I am not joking. She had to have been in her late 50s, short, squat, and dripping wet. Wrapped in a towel, in a bathing suit, shuffling along in flip flops… it looked like she had literally stepped out of a pool and into our lives. Wet Troll Woman grunted at us as she walked through, grabbed some papers that were on the wall, and shuffled her way back outside.
I was appalled, to say the least. A bit embarrassed too.
I don't know who she is, or where she came from. But, if I were to hazard a guess, I'd say under a bridge somewhere. Isn't that where trolls live?