When I took the internship, I knew it would be more about making coffee and copies than actually getting involved, either in front of or behind the camera. But it didn't matter - it was still a good summer job, a chance to make some connections in the business, and a way to avoid going home, where my parents didn't support my dream to become a television journalist.
It was the summer between my sophomore and junior years, and my dream had just become a bit more real, as I'd been accepted to start as a major in the communications program in the fall. I was no longer just an undecided pre-major at Big State - I was on the path towards my dream career!
But there were still a lot of hurdles. I'd been told by a few professors and more than a few friends that my good looks could actually be a hurdle in the business. If I wanted to be taken seriously as a journalist, I'd need a lot of credentials and experience under my belt before people would see me as something other than just another pretty face. Well, not just a pretty face - with my natural blonde hair and big blue eyes - I also have a sexy build. And while most viewers of the male persuasion would undoubtedly enjoy my nice rack, with sweaters or stylish blouses straining against my chest, revealing a pleasant amount of cleavage, I knew it also meant a struggle to be taken seriously.
Anyway - my internship had been going well that summer. I worked hard, always jumping when someone needed something, being sure to shake hands and make eye contact. Most of all, making sure that everyone knew my name - Taylor - so that when they saw my resume in a few years, they'd remember me, hopefully in a positive light! But for the most part, I was in the background - a buzy bee, buzzing around the studio, but never actually a part of the action.
That all changed on the first day of Summer Fest. The station had the exclusive TV contract for covering the annual community event, which included concerts, a fun run, a parade, and an ever-popular food fest at the city park. I knew I'd probably be helping out, as it was a big production to get the equipment out to the various public venues. What I didn't realize is that it would provide an opportunity for my TV debut.
Cassie Cavanaugh, the popular host of the station's afternoon talk show, was the usual female face of the event coverage, partnered with the dreamy John Jacobsen. When word swept through the station that Cassie was home in bed with the flu, there was a panic. Who could replace her? They couldn't send John out by himself - even though he was hugely popular, it was the banter between the two that the public loved.
"What about the intern, Tammi," John said to the station manager, pointing at me.
"Taylor," I corrected before realizing that I probably shouldn't correct my idol.
"Sure, she can do it." John grabbed my hand and pulled me aside, ignoring the babbling of the station manager, who was undoubtedly explaining that I had no on-camera experience.
"Sorry I didn't remember your name, Taylor. Are you up for it?"
Sensing that this was one of those made-for-TV moments which I'd regret passing up, I gave him a confident "yes, absolutely!" before setting into a quiet, private panic that accompanied me all the way to the city park. My nervousness existed on many levels, going way beyond the fact that this would be my TV debut.
I would also be sharing the screen with my idol, one of my inspirations for choosing this career. John had come into the profession through sports, as a former athlete turned color commentator turned news anchor. He was one of the city's hottest celebs, and also commonly described as its most eligible bachelor, still hot as ever even at 45. I'd had a crush on this guy since I was 12, and although the crush had fortunately developed into a more grown-up professional admiration, I was still totally attracted to the guy.
So as you can imagine, as we drove to the Food Fest, my stomach was filled with more than butterflies. I wanted to make a good impression, as a student, as an intern, as a journalist, as a woman. Awkward, then, when I couldn't seem to avoid embarrassing situations on camera, or control the endless string of freudian slips coming out of my mouth.
First, I was caught on camera with my lips wrapped around a corndog. Granted, the director had given us food and told us to eat it in between witty comments about how much we were enjoying ourselves. But I timed it badly, and went to town with a big bite when I should have gone with a dainty nibble. When John looked at me, banter flowing easily from his lips, his eyes dropping from my eyes to my mouth, down to my chest and back up, I froze, ruining the take. Thank god it wasn't live.
A few minutes later, we were attempting a more impromptu scene, with John and I strolling past a few booths. Perfectly innocent, really, that I bent down to pick up the napkin I had dropped, and he bumped into me from behind. But as I looked toward the camera and imagined what they saw, what looked like John taking me from behind, I blushed a hot red and couldn't look anyone in the eye. This debut was not going well. The worst part was that I couldn't read John's reaction; he was such a damned professional!
The last straw came a few minutes later, when we had settled back into our chairs facing the camera, and were filming a series of short clips that would be run as advertisements for the festival. I had practiced my line a few times, and smiled into the camera with my hand wrapped around a big plastic cup of soda.
"Come to the Food Fest with that special someone, and get your hands on one of these giant cocks!"
"Cut!"
"Jeez, I'm sorry. Cokes. Cokes." I was humiliated, really more embarrassed that I couldn't pull myself together in front of John than at the fact that I'd probably just ruined any chance I had to make it on television. Still, I couldn't tell what he was thinking. He was so calm, so unflappable. Was he disgusted, was he inwardly laughing over my obvious nervousness, was he just ignoring me and cursing Cassie for getting the flu?"
"Taylor," he said, catching my eye, "let's take a break." Then, in a louder voice, "Let's take a break, everybody. Go get yourself something to eat, and let's meet back here in an hour."
As the group of cameramen and technicians scattered in various directions, we remained in our seats for a few moments. I was frankly afraid to open my mouth at this point, worried what might spill forth, so I figured I'd wait for him to speak. "Please don't worry, Taylor, it can happen to the best of us. I've had some pretty embarrassing bloopers in my day. Let's go to the van and watch some of the tape - I promise I can pull together a good pep talk for you."
I looked up at him with a smile, relieved that he wasn't completely fed up with me, and followed him over to the van, where he opened the door and motioned for me to climb the few steps ahead of him. As soon as the door closed behind him, he said, "You've shown a lot of talent today, Taylor, jumping right into this challenge with no preparation."
"Thanks, John. Um, that means a lot coming from you!"
"You're welcome. Now, for some advice. When you find yourself getting flustered in front of the camera like that, you need to figure out what's causing the problem, and confront it, so you can move on with your work."
As I looked at him quizzically, he stepped closer to me, reached out his hand, and quickly slipped it under the hem of my sundress, his fingers brushing across my clit through the fabric of my panties.
