Grand Theft Publishing: Valdosta

June 1, 2011

I’m a production manager for a printing company. It’s a great job for me, given my knack for walking around and looking at paper and such. But today while making my rounds, I realized that I’m living a Rockstar game.

The premise is always the same: a free-roaming environment in which you stumble upon people who need a job done. You help them, you get paid, you go back to roaming.

A day in the office, though mine doesn't have russian symbols and thugs.

The press room and printing plant are my free-roaming environment. I have a safehouse (my office) tucked away from all of the action of the plant where I can escape to (and do things like type a blog entry at lunch). Granted, there aren’t as many (or any) hookers, pimps, cops, shop owners or guidos, but I have a cool collection of interesting characters of my own.

I wander around, keeping track of everything that’s going on until someone has a problem; like today: “Donny” in shipping had a lost package that he needed me to find. Of course, pretending that I’m grabbing some smuggled goods and running them to some abandoned shipping yard makes the search way more exciting than it actually is. And, just like in the games, I finish my errand, get paid and go back to roaming.

My trip to find a missing order.


Meeting a client for a presscheck.

That being said, lunch is over, and I’ve got to go meet Tommy at Washington Beach for a new paper supplier.


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