Wait, what was I talking about?
Oh, right. Here's how I saved the world: Around 3 p.m. I got a call about a lost parrot. The lady was hoping it would be a free ad, but when I told her it was actually a $10, two week ad, she didn't hesitate. I always kind of feel bad about that $10 charge, whatever, we got down to business. People call in lost pets all the time, and it's heartbreaking. You've got this beloved family member wandering about in the wilderness* and you just want it back. Dogs generally get found; cats are a little harder. Birds? I didn't have high hopes for this lady, but I could understand the need to do something.
The phone rings not ten minutes later, and it's this kid saying, uh, we found this bird... and I was like, WHERE ARE YOU?, and the kid told me where they'd found it, and I was like, you have GOT to be kidding me. Let me get you a phone number.
Because dude! That was the bird!
I figured I'd give them a half hour to make arrangements, and then call the lady to tell her I was voiding her credit card charge, but she called me. She was so excited because someone had just called her, and I was like, yeah... and started telling her about the phone call and giving out her number, and it apparently had not occurred to her that the paper had something to do with this because she was shocked. So she's thanking me profusely, and I tell her yay, you found your bird! and it was all rather heartwarming.
After I hung up I remembered a lady coming into the office maybe this past spring with a parrot on her shoulder--wearing a cone, that was a sight--and a puppy on a leash, but the puppy had not been trained to sit on her shoulder, so it was just on the floor. (Ha.) She was walking all over the place and the bird just stayed on her shoulder. I wonder if THAT was the lady. I wonder if the bird was out of his cone and what made him decide to take off.
It's a mystery.
But anyway, that's how I saved the world. Sometimes you just have to be in the right place at the right time.
And then I took a call from this guy who was ticked off about a photo we'd run on the front page, and since the reporter who took the thing wasn't in, he decided to just yell at me a little bit. (Well, it was more like a condescending rant then yelling, let's be accurate in our descriptions here.)
You can't win them all.
*Or neighborhood. Whatever.