By Rosalie Tirella
Last issue of Worcester Mag (the “new” Worcester Magazine) had the paper’s newest reporter Jeremy Shulkin (they stay about a year at Worcester Mag these days) crowing about his job! Yes, said Jeremy “Skulk-in” (that’s what I call the dweeb) in his op/ed piece, it was great to be “in the club”! In fact, the header of Skulkin’s piece was called: “In The Club.” And so an insensitive, entitled, not very talented writer crowed about how it was great to be “connected” in Wormtown.
In his column, Shulkin bragged that at Worcester Mag’s Water Street office he had a desk with a view – that from it (with his feet propped up, no doubt!), he could look down upon Water Street and environs – the blossoming Canal District. Up high above, from his second or third floor perch, Jeremy could survey the little people of Worcester … his domain!
But, said the big-hearted Jeremy, in the last paragraph, it was not soley HIS domain. It was yours and mine, too! That’s why we could go down to a Canal Distrcit watering hole and meet him and tell him all about our ideas!
How grand! Jeremy was welcoming us into his club! The little people! For a whole half hour or so!
Well, last week, Skulkin learned, the hard way, that “the little people” of Worcester know who drives the Lexus, the cool black Honda SUV and the cool little yellow jeep that are parked every day in the Water Street municipal parking lot: the folks who work at Worcester Mag. Members of “The Club”!
And when Skulkin and his ilk leave the Water Street municipal parking lot for the Worcester Mag offices across the street, they lug lap tops, digital cameras, note pads, I-pods and other cool electronics, with some serious street value. Jeremy and his ilk are young and look privileged … and dweeby.
The perfect victims!
So, last week – perhaps right after Jeremy finished typing his “In the Club” column – Worcester Mag’s office was broken into – with a vengeance. The doors were busted open. The place trashed. Laptops (our Jeremy’s?) and money were stolen – along with a bit of food. Like I said, the crooks, had obviously gotten a good look at sad-sack Skulkin and tall, doofus-puss WoMag editor, Jim Keogh, and thought: We have time for a snack! And also: We can bring these two guys down with a stroke of … our pinky fingers.
And they would have, too, if Jeremy or Jim had been unlucky enough to be … you know, writing a column about how they were, you know, kings of the Canal District.
I grew up in Green Island way before it became the Canal District. And I’ve lived in lower Vernon Hill and Main South. Not as a WoMagger or college student but as a poor person. An inner-city gal with a chip on her shoulder.
The crooks put the dopes at Blow Mag – especially Jeremy Shulkin – in their places last week. They said: Don’t ever get too arrogant around here.
We carry guns. We have our own club.