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in News 9 Cubicle Land all you ever heard was bing, bing, bing all day long with a sole bong thrown in from Jodi’s computer. She had gotten sick of thinking other people’s bings were hers and changed the sound settings.
    So, while the appearance of an IM wasn’t unusual in and of itself, I couldn’t help but notice this particular IM came from
     my father, the most un–computer savvy, low-tech guy on the planet. The man didn’t know how to program his DVR. Didn’t own
     a cell phone. And now he was IMing me? I had no idea he even knew IMing existed. I would have been willing to make a bet before
     this very minute, in fact, that he would have happily gone through his whole life never knowing or caring that communication
     with his oldest daughter was simply a bing away.

    Bing!

    [email protected]: Are you there, sweet pea?
    [email protected]: Yes. Hi Dad. What’s up?
    [email protected]: Wow! This instant messaging thing is very tight, huh?

    Oh-kay. Now I’m officially freaked out. Not only was my dad using IMing technology, but he was using expressions like “tight.”

    [email protected]: Yeah, it’s a gr8 way to communicate
    [email protected]: Listen, hon. I was wondering if you would like to come over for dinner tonight.
    [email protected]: Well, it is a work night . . .
    [email protected]: Your mother and I have some news we’d like to share with you.
    [email protected]: Is it bad news??????
    [email protected]: Oh no. It’s nothingbad.
    [email protected]: Okay, phew. For a moment it sounded like you guys were going to get a divorce or something.So what is it? Did you win the lottery? If you did, can you buy me a condo?
    [email protected]: My hands are getting tired from typing. Just come by for seven, okay?
    [email protected]: Ok. Bye dad.
    [email protected]:

    Oh. My. God. My dad used an emoticon! Another twenty-first centuryism that I figured he’d never work out. Something was definitely
     up.
    “So, what are we doing today?” Adonis—sorry, that would be Jamie—slid into David’s seat and smiled at me. I tried not to cringe
     as my insides instantly turned to mush.
    That smile of his had to be outlawed in at least thirty-three states. He shouldn’t be allowed to spring it on me like that.
     But what could I say? Excuse me, gorgeous photog, could you please not smile at me? Ever? Then he’d want to know why, and
     I’d have to admit I had the total hots for him, which he’d think was “really cute” and say I was a “nice kid” but he had a
     real woman back at home. One with caterers, swan napkins, and a sparkling diamond ring that he’d placed on her delicate finger.
     She probably had perfect nails and went to the manicurist seven days a week.
    Stop it, Maddy. Imagination running wild. She could be an ugly troll for all you know.
    I realized Jamie was still waiting for the response one would typically receive after asking a simple question of one’s coworker—if
     one’s coworker didn’t belong in a drooling mental ward due to raging female hormones.
    “Well, I don’t know if I have anything for you to shoot, ” I said with a sigh. “I’m desperately researching a story on ‘Cosmetics
     That Kill’ and unfortunately keep coming up a bit short on interview subjects.”
    He raised an eyebrow. “Cosmetics can kill? I had no idea.”
    “It’s okay, neither does the rest of the world. But promos decided it’d sound like a good ad to run during that Extreme Makeover reality show we air on Tuesday nights.”
    “You know, now that you mention it, I think I received some chain e-mail with something about deadly lipstick, ” Jamie said
     thoughtfully. “Though I probably deleted it.”
    “Really? Do you think it’s still in your trash folder?” I asked, trying not to get my hopes up. Wow. First day on the job
     and my photographer was helping me produce! He was actually interested in my story and wanted to