While the rest of the world sleeps, Jake roams the radio. On air, he plays songs, plays commercials, plays public service announcements, plays station identifications, runs the national news, reads the local news, reads the weather, announces song titles, announces sponsors, logs the transmitter readings, and keeps the station on the air until the morning d.j. arrives. Off air, he paces the building of which he is the lone occupant, reads the newspapers from the previous day, reads the book he brought (Dairy Destruction: Milking It Up As I Go Along, a biography of the wrestler The Wisconsin Whipper), looks at the swimsuit issue of Sports Illustrated someone left behind in the studio, browses some wrestling websites, looks at the photocopier and imagines publishing a zine or an old school wrestling newsletter instead of a blog, plays with the faders to get used to the feel of the mixing board, eats his lunch (cheese sandwich, peanut butter crackers, apple, cookie, and can of cola), answers the phone, shoots crumbled up paper into the wastebasket as he plays an imaginary basketball tournament in his head, and mostly tries to stay awake as he continues to adjust to his new nocturnal lifestyle.
Jake thinks, "I wonder who hears me. Factory workers on third shift, someone driving all night on the interstate, insomniacs at home, people who have to get up really early for work in the morning, senior citizens who like to get up really early even though they don't have to go to work, drunks partying all night, 24-hour convenience store clerks, and maybe my mom when she gets up in the middle of the night to pee. There's a whole nightlife culture invisible to the day, and I'm here for them in case they get lonely. All they have to do is turn on the radio and I'm there. Or here, but to them I'm there."
The night moves one second, one minute, one hour at a time. The timestream flows forward bearing Jake just a little bit farther towards the waterfall of mortality. The work is peaceful aside from a few minor instances of dead air when Jake panics upon hitting the wrong button, running from the restroom when a song ends before he thought it would, and spacing out staring for no particular reason at a cart of the song "Different Drum" by The Stone Poneys.
When Gary, the morning announcer, rolls in with a box of donuts, Jake knows his night is nearly done. He puts carts away, saving the last couple remaining ones for his shift. Soon, Gary's puffy face yawns, and he says, "Go ahead and hit it dude. I got it from here. Take a donut if you want."
Jake takes a yummy nutty twist, gathers up his things, and spills into the fading night. He turns on the radio in his junker car and hears the end of the last song he played, then a station i.d. comes on, and the national news. The news is a slight variation of everything from the night. Terrorism. War. Crime. This Politician Said That. That Politician Said This. Heavy Snow In The Midwest. A Famous Movie Actor Died. The National Debt Has Grown. The National Income Has Not. A Heartwarming Wacky Story About A Dog Who Likes To Play Poker. Not much has changed except there's more light in Jake's part of the world's spin. Centripetal force keeps him from following the radio waves into space. Or maybe that's gravity. Jake doesn't care at this point. Stay awake. Drive. Get home. Sleep while the rest of the world wakes.
Blog Love Omega Glee is a novel by Wred Fright about two bloggers who fall in love while the world falls apart, which is being serialized on his blog. To start reading from the beginning or read another installment, please visit Blog Love Omega Glee Central on WredFright.Com. If you like what you've read, or you've read all of Blog Love Omega Glee and want more Fright, then please read his first novel, which is available in print and as an ebook.
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