A fellow journalist

We meet a guy on the bus ride over from the parking lot to the airport who looked like a geek and was wearing a Pandora t-shirt, so I ask, do you work for Pandora?

No, he says, I'm a journalist.

Huh, me and Mark say. Who do you write for?

I'm a freelancer, he says. I wrote a story about Pandora, and a few days later they were all, Wow, thanks! And they sent me this free shirt.

Nifty graft, I say, just a tad sarchastic.

"Yeah!" he says, not seeming to catch that graft might be a bad thing. "This is nothing." And he starts to spill over with stories of all the free stuff he's gotten over the years as an internet "journalist." He hands us two cards, one for his new "magazine" Puerto Rico Lifestyle, and some other magazine. He's getting an 8 week free vacation for himself and his wife and three kids based on freebies he's gotten because of his Puerto Rico magazine. It hasn't launched yet, but people gave him free stuff anyway based on the fact that he has other online magazines.

Don't they want to know what kind of traffic you do -- whether anyone reads the site? I ask.
No, he says. And even if they ask, how are they going to check?

What a racket.

"Did you know," he says, "You can get three days free at any Hilton just because you're writing something?" He shakes his head in amazement.

"Problem is," he says. "Writing just doesn't pay much. People don't seem to know the difference between good and bad writing."

He drifts off in contemplation perhaps over how his craft isn't appreciated, then returns to the bright side. "Another great thing -- if they have empty seats in first class, I get a free upgrade!"

We pull up to the airline gate, and he's off musing again. "I've never tried first class," he says. "I'd really like to try it."

Mark's jaw is clenching. His temple is doing that pulsing thing.

"I hated that guy," he says, as we run away.

"No kidding," I say. I hope he can ditch that tell before he hits the World Series ... !
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