The Scoop on So. Florida "Journalists"

Soooo, I know I've been rather cryptic about my reason for staying in Miami after I quit my dreadful job for my uncle, but now I am finally able to reveal the truth. The second week of December, after I had hired the movers and done everything but pack, a family friend put me in touch with one of the managing editors of the online division of the largest (and only) paper in Miami.

He read my blog, loved it, loved my "voice," and suggested we do a "Sex and the City in Miami" type blog on this paper's web site. Well, hell, what writer doesn't dream of her own column for a huge paper? And this paper, although journalistically unfit to line you cat's litter box with—every day the front page headlines are either sports- or weather-related—has a huge circulation. This was a chance for me to establish this blog as a brand, basically.

Said managing editor gives the impression that this is a fabulous idea, a collaboration made in editorial heaven, and says he will speak to the right people, "get the ball rolling" and get back to me. I postpone my move based on his optimism and promises, for everyone agrees this is too good an opportunity to pass up.

Meanwhile, the holidays are approaching, so I know I won't hear anything definitively till after the new year. But, last we left it, it was, I would say a 90% done deal; semantics were all that had to be worked out. I came back from New York and had yet to hear from him. So I left the requisite "just checking in message." I get an e-mail back from him saying "this may not work due to budgetary constraints." (N.B. Managing editors are typically in charge of budgets, therefore he should have known about so-called budgetary constraints weeks ago.)

I write back saying the money isn't important—I'm willing to work within his budgetary constraints, and that given my knack for garnering national publicity, my blog would surely increase their traffic. No word back. I leave him another polite message on Monday. Finally by yesterday I'd had enough and e-mailed him (again, politely) saying that I needed an answer, because as he well knew, I'd put my moving plans on hold in the hopes of working with him.

So last night I received a nasty email from the festering asshole (Jenn's phrasing) declining my services. Natch, I, in kind, respond that I expect a certain amount of consideration from family friends, especially when I have been patient, persistent and professional. I thanked him for the false hope and the fabulous blogging material. I mean, this guy is like +50 and this is how he conducts business? I suspect initially he made it seem like he had more power than he does and his bosses nixed the idea, and he was too pussified to tell me. So instead he hid behind the veil of "budgetary constraints."

So there it is. Therefore, unless I can pull a rabbit out of a hat and land a gig at the one mag in this city, I'm definitely out of here for good.

Update: Sooo, the "festering asshole" knew about this before he even approached me. I don't know if this makes him more repugnant or less, but perhaps he was looking for a replacement for her...Thanks, anon.