50.

8:00 p.m.

I stumbled out of the Gazette. Bob hadn’t been kidding about standing over my shoulder till the column was done. Staff discreetly gave me looks of pity, as they left for the day. I felt like the kid staying behind for a mega-detention. At seven, my bladder was so full that I was wriggling in my seat, but Bob grimly handed me an empty juice pitcher from the staff lunch room and turned away slightly. He was obviously convinced that he couldn’t trust me not to bolt. That was humiliating. I probably should have gotten the Depends.

There was a silver lining to this ordeal. The column was spectacular.

Bob had quietly instructed me as to how we were going to make this mistake work to our advantage. It was brilliant, actually.