The Adam Boy

CHAPTER 14 - DIFFICULT, BUT LEARNING

The new interns had already been distributed in their functions. Each one took the production of a program, others stayed with the journalism edition and I stayed on the script of a program together with Mariana and another boy, in addition to producing texts for the TV website.

The work, at first, seemed to be easy: each week each intern produced a program or two, did the research on the agenda and put together the script. So far this was the easy part of my job.

The hard part was facing Norman Da Silvia. And it seemed that it was everyone's feeling. Whenever someone finished a script for a program, it had to be approved by her. Nothing was aired, or produced, or started, without first having its approval.

It seemed that when the producers of a program were about to finish their work, they were already apprehensive because they knew that they would have to take it to Norman for her to read everything and approve. When a producer was on his day to deliver the script, he already felt tense, he was sweating and nervous all the time.

When Norman arrived at the room already charging the script, the intern's breathing was already heavy and his body was shaking. She liked to read the script on her computer screen and, beside her, the producer had to keep up with it, she saw every mistake it contained, what was best to put in, and what would be better to take, what was good or what that it was bad, everything next to Norman. And that was where the biggest nightmare part of the job was. When she pointed out a spelling mistake, we survived, but when she asked her questions, the trainees soon stuttered and their breathing became heavy.

"Buuuut, why this question? I do not understand why ask this question to inviteaaado?" Asked Norman, staring at the intern, frightened and sweating.

And with many stutters and liters of sweat pouring out, I tried to explain why that question was important.

"I didn't understand this paaaart. Why did you put this on, soooon?" she said after reading two more lines of the script (she called all interns "son").

And again there were syllables and more syllables stuttered from the explanation of the poor intern, who had to speak the whole process of his research and composition of that script, to see if Norman understood and agreed that what she did not understand was important to be in. script.

"Nooooo ... I didn't like it, son! And noooow?"

This question was like a question from a question and answer program that is worth a million reais. What's up? The interns were shaking when she asked that question. What solution was good to please Norman? The fear of talking nonsense was great and the expectation of hearing screams and more screams was even greater.

And there went to Norman with his eyes wide towards the intern sitting on his right side, his head coming and going from top to bottom and bottom to top, but this time not with a slight smile, but with his mouth very pressed , waiting for the intern's solution.

"Ah... I don't know. I was watching on the Internet and found some cool things and I think you can put ..." an intern tried.

-"Well ... I thought of asking questions that would lead to the historical context that the author narrates in the book ..." another intern tried.

"Oh ... I emailed an expert in the field, but he still hasn't answered me" said another.

Expectation and more expectation when an answer was given. Some blinked their eyes over and over, others wiped their sweaty hands, others bit their lips... But everyone was nervous about giving solutions when she asked.

Some got along well: when she opened her eyes even more, she shook her head more positively and said: "Gooood! Very gooood. I liked it.", they breathed relieved, threw themselves in the chair sighing and losing their posture and gave a little yellow smile, as if the guillotine had failed and thus freeing themselves from losing their head.

But when Norman stopped staring at the intern, took off his glasses, put his right hand on his eyes and went down until he reached his mouth, lightly pressing the ends of his lips, as if he had wiped his mouth, it was a sign that we had spoken shit , and a lot of shit. That she had abhorred the idea, that she found it disoriginal, that she thought it was silly. In other words, we were worthless and had no good ideas. It was even worse when she did all this: she took off her glasses, put her right hand on her eye and went down until she reached her mouth, lightly pressing the ends of her lips, and on top of that she threw her short, very straight hair back, it was better you get up on time and do a new job. That was his fatal gesture. And everyone hoped they would never see him, or at least, not so soon. She could scream, curse, correct...

Another thing that was difficult over there on TV was calling her name. It needed a lot of courage and momentum. Some interns turned around, but when they opened their mouths to call his name, they thought straight and turned back to his computer. I took a deeper breath, took more courage and pronounced a good and legitimate "NORMAN".

One day, when André, one of the writers of a classical music program, took that courage, got up and called a tall "Norman".

"Hummmm..." she spoke loudly. It was amazing how a person, even with their mouths closed and uttering only a few noises like hummmm, came to do it with such good sound. He looked like he was shouting "What the fuck?"

She hadn't stopped looking at her computer screen, she was undoubtedly doing something very important. With Norman's hummmm, André looked like he was scared. Neither he nor anyone in that room expected this, they all looked.

"Yeah ... If you want, I'll be back another time" stammered André with eyes wide with surprise.

- Nooooo! You can talk. What is it, soooon?

She was still focused on what she was doing. This made André's dread even greater. He had some sheets with something printed on his hand and went to his side. He started talking and explaining a lot of things about a script in the best possible way. She just kept saying "hum..." whenever he breathed a little, but without looking at him. This was a curiosity in her that I found interesting and even cool. Whenever she sat in front of her computer, she was supposed to do something very, very important, and she never took her eye off the screen, even in cases like our friend André who explained something very important, but we knew that she he was able to pay attention to his work at the PC and the intern who spoke standing next to him. I was sure for one thing: the intern spoke and talked, explained, I tried to show it, even though I knew she wasn't seeing it and she just had "hum..." coming out of her closed mouth several times. But when, in the middle of the explanation, there was something she didn't like, at the time she stopped looking at her document on the screen, and turned it precisely to the intern and asked her famous and dreaded questions:

"How soooo?"

"But whyyyy?"

"Nooooo? Pleeeese what?"

"Hoooow could you not?"

"Anything else, soooon?"

And there the intern would go through everything again.

I had changed machines. Now I was sitting in a place that, on my left side, was Marcela, which were rare the times I stayed there, because I was always on an editing island or recording a program. And to my right, nothing more, nothing less, than her: Norman Da Silvia. I confess that this idea at first scared me, but then I saw that it was a great experience.