Chapter 18
Beth, Just Beth
"Beware, the fire
of a redheaded temptress,
for she will get you lit."
~ E.E. Cummings, 1806
What would a bustling New York City newsroom be without a spunky redhead? It seems like there is a quirky little auburn haired woman in every office. I dare say that Beth of WNYX is the spunkiest of them all. She is a colorful character to say the least. When I think of Beth I am reminded of a butterfly: beautiful and flamboyant with a brain the size of a grain of sand. Of all the ladies at WNYX, I would say Beth is the least influential in terms of what makes Bill McNeal tick. She is Dave's secretary, which means she does not work for me and I do not work for her. Therefore, most days, I barely register her existence. Yet, there is something about her vibrant red hair and her outlandish wardrobe that makes her impossible to ignore.
Beth is a born-and-raised New Yorker and, while she may appear pint-sized and fragile like a porcelain doll, she has been hardened by the mean streets of this city. She's tough as nails, can hold her own in a bar fight, and has been known to make grown men cry for a variety of different reasons. I've come to understand that her career has been a series of one dead-end job after another which led her to the doorstep of WNYX where she has cemented herself in another dead-end job.
She is a secretary by trade, which is baffling to me due to the fact that she seems to possess none of the most basic skills required. She doesn't know shorthand and her longhand leaves much to be desired. If she knows how to type she has certainly never demonstrated that skill. She's supposed to be in charge of scheduling Dave's meetings, but her calendar system is essentially just a variety of colorful sticky notes that she adheres to various surfaces and/or people around the office. She attends our staff meetings, but does not keep minutes. She does bring Dave coffee, though not as often as he would like. In Beth's defense, no human on earth could keep up with Dave's coffee intake. Basically, what I'm trying to say is that she has the simplest job in the world and she still manages to screw it up. I think the only reason she still has a job is that Jimmy seems to think of her as the daughter he never had.
I used to think of myself as something of a father figure to Beth as well. I thought I might be able to teach her a thing or two about the ways of the world, help her find her way. That all ended when I tried to treat her to a nice time at the annual Broadcasters' Luncheon. She sexually assaulted me in the limo on the way back to the office. I had never before and have not since felt so dirty. It's not unusual for women to throw themselves at me, but that time I never saw it coming. Beth took advantage of my trusting nature and thrust herself upon me without warning. I didn't press charges, but I certainly stopped thinking of myself as her daddy from that day forward.
Her real father seems to be dust in the wind. It would appear he didn't even stick around long enough to give her a last name. Her mother remarried, marking poor Beth as a redheaded stepchild for life. On the many occasions when I have eavesdropped on her phone calls with her mother, I've learned a great deal about what a disappointment Beth is to her family. For those of you who would chastise me for listening in on this young woman's calls, I'll have you know that I listen in on all my coworkers' personal calls. It's called equal treatment—look it up. From what I gather, Beth's mother is unhappy with the fact that Beth is constantly on the brink of bankruptcy, unmarried, childless, and a bit overly friendly with young gentlemen in uniform. What can I say? Not everyone can maintain the type of pure, loving relationship I share with my mother.
While I generally defend a woman's right to stay single, avoid motherhood, and enjoy the company of as many men as she chooses, I must say, Beth's mom has a point about the finances. New York City is one of the most expensive places to live on the planet. Between the exorbitant housing prices, sky high costs of basic living essentials, and the rising effects of inflation, it's hard for anyone to make ends meet here. Beth's ability to survive on 1/16th of my salary defies all logic and reason. I imagine her apartment must be approximately the size of my closet. She can probably cook dinner and use the toilet simultaneously. Although, I would imagine that cooking dinner is a luxury she can't really afford. As far as I can tell Beth subsists on a diet of about 500 calories a day, most of which is pillaged from the breakroom in the form of condiments. I assume the reason she chews gum constantly is to trick her body into thinking she's eating something. My mother sometimes had to resort to some interesting recipes in order to make ends meet, but we never had to stoop so low as Beth does with her ketchup packet soup and Tic Tac lunch special.
I must say, though, Beth is resourceful. Despite earning practically nothing, she manages to carry on. When there's no money in the budget even for a package of ramen noodles, Beth finds a way to put food in her belly. Usually this takes the form of manipulating some young, dumb, musclebound boy toy to take her out on a date. It seems that any man below a certain age and IQ is powerless against Beth's efforts to force him to do her bidding. She gets them to buy her meals, pay her rent, and purchase outlandish clothes for her. You name it, they will do it. When you think about it, it's a perfect plan. You would think she would capitalize on this power of hers and live an exorbitant lifestyle rather than scraping by on stolen breadsticks from Olive Garden. But, just as men can be the key to her survival, they can also be her downfall.
When she is not emotionally attached, Beth can make men do anything. Sadly, she has a weakness for bad boys. As a reformed bad boy myself, I can hardly blame her. We're quite charming. The worse a guy is for her, both financially and emotionally, the harder it is for her to resist. When she falls in with one of these alluring scamps, any gains she made with her young playthings are quickly erased. It's her Achilles heel. She loses whatever little sense of reason she possesses the moment she sees a man in uniform. The only thing Beth likes better than a man in uniform is getting a man out of his uniform, if you know what I mean. And she is not particular. A police officer or fireman is great, but a plumber in coveralls will do just fine. Don't even get her started on those brown shorts the delivery guys wear. I think it's safe to say that if Beth could calm her libido, she might be able to pull herself above the poverty line. But, alas, the woman is insatiable.
She might be able to manage her budget a little better if she weren't constantly outfitting her wardrobe with costumes fit for a burlesque dancer or a carnival sideshow performer. I don't think I've ever seen her wear the same thing twice. Beth seems to like to decorate herself, like a peacock putting itself on display to attract a mate. Most of the dresses she wears look more like a trapeze artist's leotard with various trains and accoutrements attached. If she showed up to work at WNYX in a full ball gown and a tiara, I doubt anyone would bat an eye. Likewise, if she showed up in her underwear, she wouldn't draw any more attention to herself than usual. Beth's outfits tend to be more revealing than is deemed socially acceptable in a place of business. I believe that a woman's body is a work of art and should be displayed proudly in any way she chooses. But, seriously, we're trying to run a radio station here, not a brothel. She could stand to leave a little something to the imagination. Although, in Beth's case, I don't have to imagine what she looks like naked. At one point she freely distributed nude photographs of herself with a paper bag over her head. Let's just say I no longer have to wonder if she's a natural redhead.
Perhaps Beth's outlandish fashion sense comes from her flare for the dramatic. Of course, all women are prone to being over dramatic, but in Beth's case I'm referring to her love of performance. That woman loves to put on a show. That's what makes her such a great scene partner. Beth and I, much to the delight of our coworkers, stage a daily reenactment of Dave's ranting and ravings in the office. I typically play the role of Dave the lunatic and she takes on whatever role makes the most sense for the scene. Usually she plays a miserable and depressed employee and my job is to reenact Dave's delight in kicking her while she's down. It's all in good fun and generally boosts the staff morale, which Dave constantly tries to squash back down with his tyranny. The staff loves it and Beth is decent in her portrayals. I've long wanted to turn it into a musical number, but she needs to learn how to sing prettier first. It's a work in progress.
While I find our shared love of office theatre amusing, it hardly is what makes Bill McNeal tick. When I think of Beth and her contributions to my greatness, her best attribute is simply staying out of my way. She has no power over me or my career and, against all reason, I am not considered directly superior to her. Therefore, we have no influence on one another. That makes her more or less irrelevant to my existence. Still, there is something about that tiny, spunky girl that I find intriguing. I'm sure I will find a use for her yet.
Beth might be useful as an informant. She can be an excellent source of information about the inner workings of office politics. No one is a better eavesdropper than Beth. She is always in the know about who is sleeping with who, who's getting fired, and who is filing a fraudulent workers' compensation claim. Unfortunately, because Beth has the intelligence of a stapler, it takes a fair amount of decoding for any of her information to be useful. For instance, Beth might say, "That guy with the weird hair and the ugly sweater who's always trying to have lunch with us said he's taking a mental health holiday—whatever that means." This might sound like useless information to the untrained ear. But what I hear is that Karl from Accounting is being harassed by Matthew again and he needs to take some time off so that he doesn't beat the living hell out of our resident spaz. Likewise, if Beth says, "I have to find a Peter Frampton Vocoder for Mr. James," you can rest assured that our fearless leader is on the hunt for a wife once again. Also, if Beth notes that Lisa is wearing one of Dave's signature blue shirts along with the same skirt she wore the day before, that means Dave is probably in a good mood and this is an opportune time to ask for a raise. You see? Beth can be useful. Under my tutelage I'm sure she will one day become a proud contributor to the greatness that is Bill McNeal.