George Packard labored on his bicycle up the hill at Century City. It was a hard life, this reporter’s life, this life of a roving reporter. What with the traffic, riding a bicycle wasn’t what it used to be. All the same, George liked to do his roving on bicycle. George waxed nostalgic as he remembered that five or maybe ten years ago you could ride your bicycle on Olympic Blvd late on a weekday morning without too much traffic to worry about. No more. Every year the traffic in Los Angeles grew noticeably worse. “No scoop there,” considered George Packard. “Nope. Everybody already knows that the traffic gets worse and worse every year. It’s like global temperatures. In fact it’s the traffic that makes the temperatures go up in the first place.

“And this darn hill never gets any better neither,” continued George in his grumblings. As George Packard, retired schoolteacher and roving reporter for Bumbastories rode on, he started to become disgruntled and quite frankly pissed off about this roving reporter gig for Bumbastories. What a waste of time! All this looking for a scoop. All this roving! Slowly calming himself down as he pedaled, George thought more rationally, and carefully considered all the benefits and liabilities, the pros and cons as it were, of his roving reporter activities. It was true that the pay wasn’t much. It was zero, in fact. Zilch! Neither were there any medical benefits! As George pedalled on, he was hard-pressed to come up with any perceptible or discreet benefits at all in regard to all his roving reporting activities.

“Son of a gun,” he said to himself. “I guess I just like riding the bicycle and talking to myself.”

George Packard rode on. No longer seeking a scoop, he later stopped for a frozen yogurt.

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