Heartburn

Meghan O’Malley was fed up with George Morgan and his gastronomical assignments.

After earning a Bachelor of Arts degree with a major in journalism, she had applied for a job as a reporter, striding into his office wearing a blue business suit and a white blouse with an air that exuded confidence. As he contemplated her resume, he took the stogie from his mouth and asked, “Aside from your college studies, what makes you think you can be a reporter on this paper?”

She leaned forward in her chair and replied, “I’ve wanted to be a news reporter since I learned to read. I’ve had several short stories published, edited the school paper, and graduated with honors. I’m sure I can do it.”

George ran a hand through his unruly salt and pepper hair which always seemed to be in need of a trim and said, “Putting out a quality daily newspaper is not the same as working on a school tabloid. We have tight deadlines and require crisp, concise writing.”

She looked him directly in the eye and said, “I’ve proven I can work hard, and I’m willing to learn if given the chance.”

“Tell you what. I do need someone to write our ’Local Cuisine’ column. That would give you a chance to learn the ropes and let me see your work. What do you say?”

Eager to get her foot in the door, Meghan jumped at the opportunity and agreed to start immediately. George gave her a list of local restaurants to critique for the next week and said, “Deadline is 11:00 sharp every day.”

Meghan proved to be a hard worker who was in the office early every morning to complete her assignments and make the most of any extra time to chat with the other reporters in the news room about their assignments and even tag along whenever she could. She had a frank, colorful style that the readers came to appreciate, while some of the businesses who received less than favorable reviews were not so appreciative. One day, when George stopped by her desk to compliment her on the favorable mail the paper had been receiving from the readers, she asked, “When do I get a real news assignment?”

He said, “You have to pay your dues first, Kiddo. Hang in there,” and walked away.

In the evenings, after dining out at another greasy spoon restaurant, Meghan would curl up on the couch with her pet cat, Bootsie, to watch the cable news on TV and tell him, “I can do that. You just watch!”

As time went on, sampling the culinary concoctions of every eating place in town and the frustration of having her journalistic talent stifled were giving her major heartburn. Whenever she requested more challenging assignments, he reminded her, “You’ve got to earn your stripes first, Kiddo.”

That is, until the night she ordered General Tso’s chicken at Hop Sing’s Oriental Palace. As she was about to take the first bite of the egg roll that came with the meal, she saw a familiar face at the table in the corner. She got up and started toward the rest rooms. In the vestibule she stopped at the pay phone, inserted her quarter, and dialed. When a voice answered, she said, “I’ve got a tip for you.”

In minutes, police cars rolled up in front of the restaurant. As the police were arresting the man at the corner table, whom she had recognized as the con artist from the previous night’s episode of “America’s Most Wanted,” she was calling George with her first major news scoop.