A man wandered into the newsroom. Not entirely unusual. More often then not, they're inquiring about an obituary or they're hoping to pitch a story to the editor. This man was the latter.
He wanted to know if we ever bought photos from the public.
Our editor walks out of the office, asks him what he needs.
At this point, I'm zoned-out, just focusing on the work in front of me.
And then, from straight behind me, I hear the man say his photo is of Big Foot.
"Big Foot Spotting in Norman," is immediately what I picture the headline to be. Laughter starts to bubble over, and I desperately try to contain it. My hand is clasped over my mouth, my body shaking with laughter, and my eyes welling over in tears as I listen to the conversation behind me.
My editor asks to see the photo. It's on his cell phone. He apologizes that it's so small. She takes a look and very calmly tells him they wouldn't be able to publish it because the photo is not large enough.
He says he understands. He just thought we might like to know — there's a Big Foot in town. Of course, he warns, he can't tell us where he saw him because he'd hate for us to go out and kill him.
My editor smiles and nods. She says she understands. Again, she tells him we can't accept the photo but suggests he contacts a Big Foot TV show or website. He thinks it's a good idea.
The man leaves, and the newsroom immediately erupts in laughter and conversation. And of course, we all want to know — was it Big Foot?
To our dismay, the editor tells us the photo was just a green and brown smear.
What a disappointment.