Next, Copy got to redlining News’s local rant, which, with an eye to getting a jump on the next week, Layout had already inserted into the blank template he uses for most of our issues. News herself hung out while Copy went over the article. “Allegedly,” News said, “those people are the worst.” 

Copy took a second to realize News meant the anarchists. She arched her eyebrows all the way up to the ceiling in surprise. “But why? I mean, you’re not exactly a Young Republican either. They’re trying, at least.”

“Yeah, but have you been down to the park lately? They’re not manning the food tent or handing out leaflets. It’s just a field trip for them. They’re a book club that happens to read Bakunin. The thing about assholes is, they think they’re helping when they’re not.”

Copy nodded, her face serious, which News took as her cue to spend another ten minutes explaining all the things she hates about punks and poseurs. Throughout the monologue, Copy made a point of not just listening, but absorbing every word, saying “Uh-huh!” and “Exactly!” when News needed to hear that she’d made an especially salient point. Copy was such a gifted audience. We all did our best work when we were bouncing ideas off of her; it was a privilege. And somehow she was redlining still, at the same time that News kept going off, and when News was done, Copy handed her the finished proof without skipping a beat.

Then News’s pants pocket vibrated. “Shit,” she said, and grabbed her phone. “It’s Brian. Those morons emailed him. Can you run this over?” Copy said sure, and did not ask News to say hi to Brian for her. She brought the proof to Layout’s cubicle, in the far corner by the supply cabinet; she always shot all over the office that way, a little clumsy in her heels and her hobbling pencil skirt. The rest of us have always dressed more casually, of course.