#augustxopen

Hearing the record drop, August paused as he waited for the needle to fall into the ridge, before pressing the button to switch audio from the host to the music. Once the melody began, he gave the host two thumbs up, alerting them the music has began and they are free to go. Their shift was up. Unlike August’s. He had the enviable position of manning the new initiative that was proposed by his boss. And being the new guy who happened to have a production background, he had been volun-told he would spearhead it.

At least he would be able to play anything he wanted. He assumed most people wouldn't participate, and it would die out relatively quick. Haricks had called it town hall, allowing any and all wixen to come to the station, and leave a note, anonymous or not, and it would be read on the air. A way to get grivences out. “You do know how to read, right Spenc?” Haricks had asked in the meeting, implying yet again that since August was American, he was clearly a dumb dumb. “Haha, sorta” August replied, hoping to just move past the cheap joke.

The sound of static brought August to his sense, sitting up quickly realizing he had dozed off, and the record lineup he had had finally reached the end. “Sonofa” he said, grabbing some record within reach, and placing it on the empty turntable to the left. He dropped the needle, switching the audio, allowing the sounds of Fleetwood Mac’s new song “Tusk” to fill the room.

Letting out a sigh of relief, hoping the air wasn’t dead for too long, he leaned back into the chair, closing his eyes, before kicking himself to rotate around the room. He open his eyes as the chair came to a slow stop, seeing someone standing just outside the studio. Glancing at the clock, he saw the 3 minutes remained of “town hall” time. Nodding as if to say ‘ok’ he pushed himself from the chair, before opening the door a small amount, sticking out his hand for some note or paper of what to read on air.