The tale of a small victory, because if I can’t brag here, where can I brag?
Today a gentlemen stopped his car in the road beside where I was walking to lean out and say “It was a good story.”
I already knew it was a good story, at least in the way he meant it, but it felt really good to hear him say that.
You see, talking to this gentleman recently after a public meeting was a little bit of a chore. No, he wasn’t mean or hard to understand. He was just really reluctant to open up to a reporter because, he said, he’d been misquoted before.
Being the pushy sort, I pushed. I could repeat back his quotes. I would record our interview so there’d be a record we could both listen to later. He brushed me off with a “we’ll sit down when I’m not so busy”-type comment and I went on my way with what I had from the meeting. I actually thought to myself that he would see that I’m not the type of reporter who gets it wrong.
And then he did!