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An Open Letter To The Front Office Intern Assigned To Read Hot Time

Related Topics: Toyota Park, Reading F.C.

It is Understood around the Hot Time offices that, somewhere in the bowels of Toyota Park, cut off from sunlight and the company of other living things, toils an Intern, and that among the Tasks laid for them is the ritual of Reading That Trash On Hot Time, primarily to report instances Taking Hauptman’s Name In Vain.

The room is a grey concrete rectangle with a single door. It smells faintly of mold within minutes of being cleaned. Piled in the corner are the remains of confiscated two-pole banners reading “HauptmanOut.” The single desk is an obvious hand-me-down, missing a single footpad and so prone to teetering back and forth along a diagonal axis; atop the desk, a battered laptop, a notepad covered in doodles, a half-eaten bag of trail mix.