Slowly, the station emptied out. While we had an on-call engineer if anything went wrong with the signal, the building was locked up by now and I'd be alone to rock out for the next hour at least or until the next DJ, Quinn, showed up to prepare his show.

At around ten I decided it was time for my featured special music. "Tonight we've got something special on folks. Let's hear it for the new Merry Blue that I've got in my little hand, straight from the presses-wherever they press these puppies, anyway. Matt was kind enough to drop by the new CD today, and you'll hear it first here on KMUK. Just like The Catheters, the Bookends, Gashuffer, and Mudhoney, you hear it on Friday night first."

Then I potted up the levels and unleashed the power of grunge manifest. I turned up the studio speakers and danced around in total teenage abandon.

I'd been taking requests all night but when I saw the phone blinking again I wanted to ignore it. I was busy rocking out. The lyrics on the song were so great and the heavy beat was expert in its rhythm. But the phone kept blinking away, so I finally turned down the volume and picked it up. "Hello, KMUK radio."

"Mona, this is Gordon. Merry Blue isn't an option anymore. Didn't you see the memo?"

I slumped against the counter. Gordon was Payne's right hand man and had no sense of humor as far as I could see. "Yes, I saw it."

"Well you can't play Merry Blue until after midnight."

"It doesn't say that."

"Yes it does."

"No," see I had thought this out already, "this is new Merry Blue. Payne hasn't even heard it so how could he possibly mean to ban this music until midnight. No one is going to hear it if its played in the wee hours of the morning. We've got to promote this now."

I heard him cluck in the background. "You're missing the point, Mona, and if you play them, I'll have to inform Payne."

My next break was coming up, I had to cue up another song, and talking with Gordon was a bore. "Do what you have to do."

"Bye, Mona."

When he hung up I didn't put on the next cut of the album right away. It crossed my mind that I didn't want to talk to Payne tonight about my performance. He was a small man who wanted to be Lou Reed. It wasn't working for him. We'd had a talk in his office about a month ago. He'd strongly encouraged me to diversify my show by adding lame mainstream local bands (the same ones they played on the commercial station) that he liked. Then Gordon had gotten on my back about overplaying Dean Chase. If Gordon was calling Payne now, at least there wasn't anything on the radio to get him worked up.

Lame mainstream bands were not ever going on my play list though. I wouldn't be able to show my face in town, or get invited to the best parties, if I started going commercial. Then a guy named Tim called, and he was really excited about the new Merry Blue, and I tried describing the album but it couldn't compete with just hearing it, and I thought, fuck it, and so I told them to stay tuned, I'd get it on after the next break.

I didn't announce it. I just sandwiched two songs between a Quasi and a Turtleneckers cut. But Gordon must have recognized it because the next thing I knew, I got a call from Payne.

"Mona, I've had it with your lack of respect. Consider yourself on probation until we have a chance to think about what you are at KMUK for."

The word probation dropped like bomb into my gut. He was taking me off the air? "Probation? For playing one song? Wait a minute, don't you see what I'm doing? I'm helping the station by getting new releases and putting them on the air first!"

"Did I ask you to do that? All you have to do is follow my memo. I want consistency here. You're off the air; Gordon will be there in a few minutes to take over your shift. I have a mind that he'll do a better job anyway."

I hung up. His insults made me sick. I wanted to smash the phone on the floor. I even missed the next song break. Just let the next one go after the silence. But then, I glanced up at the clock. It was 10:45. I didn't know how long it would take Gordon to get here but I was not going to play lullabies while I waited. I flipped through my selections and pulled out the hardest, biggest songs I could think of. I cued them all up. I was on a roll. I played a growly smoky ballad by the Screaming Trees, one that made me think of all the decent music that Payne wouldn't like. I followed that up with a long-overdue station break.

"You're listening to KMUK at the top of the hour." I was going to keep it like a normal break, just the weather and the song list but then I stopped talking. I could feel the dead air stretch out before me, like a calm pool surface waiting to be broken. I could feel the danger of dissing Payne on the air but decided that I had to tell the truth.

I cleared my throat. "Tonight I won't be finishing this show for you. Another DJ will take over my shift. It's because I played Merry Blue's new CD for you and they didn't want me to play something that loud. There's a new rule up here saying that loud stuff can't be played before midnight." I could've stopped there but I wanted to impress the listeners. Wake them up. "You should take this as a sign of what is happening up at the station. Management is making big changes up here and if you like KMUK as it is now, please make your voice heard. Management wants to make this station easy to listen to. Please tell them you won't stand for that. This is MC Spinster, on KMUK radio."

Well, I had done it. My hand was shaking but I turned off the levels and potted up the next CD. I knew what I said would make Payne furious.

I started getting my CD's together, putting them all into my suitcase as fast as I could. But then the door to the offices opened and Gordon had arrived.

Gordon was a big guy with a nasally voice, wide-open face, and a patronizing expression. He was as righteous as the rest of us about our love for KMUK but for some reason had a totally opposite opinion of where the station should go than every other DJ here. He wanted to be in management. He never used the word alternative.

I saw him through the double glass studio windows, and then I saw there was a security guard behind him. I got scared. I backed up against the mixing board. There is a way you can make the studio speakers work even if you are on the air. As Gordon walked in, I just opened the mike and leaned against the board so he wouldn't notice.

The guard stood in the doorway. Gordon pointed at me, which was stupid, as I was obviously the only other person in there. "Are you crazy? We don't want the listeners to know about our internal policies."

"Please explain why there is a guard here." My hand was clutching the levels to the microphone and I was desperately hoping this was all going out over the air.

Gordon ended up standing right up in my face. The smell of ivory soap coming off his skin made me want to puke.

The guard moved forward and now there were three of us in a room the size of a walk-in closet.

Gordon stared at me. "Mona, your time at KMUK is over. Payne has authorized me to fire you. We want you out tonight."

He said the word fire. My mouth was hanging open. I think he said fire me. I was mindful that the board was still open. I had my hands behind me and they were shakily holding the mike levels up. If I didn't want to expose him, I'd probably have crumbled. "Wait, I'm on probation because I played Merry Blue and you think they don't fit our sound at KMUK, right?"

"Get your stuff, Mona."

"I just want to understand. Because now you're saying you've fired me and you've brought a security guard." That's where my voice wavered. It hurt to even say I was fired. Never mind let thousands of Seattleites hear it.

"Why?" I looked at the guard pleadingly. He was a short stocky guy, not bad looking.

Gordon looked down at me past his thick smug lips. "Playing that song was wrong, and no one wants to hear it except misfits like you. Criticizing the station over the air will affect our fundraising attempts. You've made it clear you don't like our policies. And now you won't have to."

He lunged for the board with his big body and I couldn't stand there a moment longer. I moved toward the guard. Gordon stared down at the levels, "You left the mike on?" The squeak in his voice was my moment of triumph. Then he fumbled with a station ID and forced one into the playback machine.

He pulled on the headphones and shoved his hand at me like he was pushing me away. I realized I didn't belong in here anymore. He was the DJ now.

The guard moved forward. "Ready, miss?"

I hadn't finished getting my CDs organized but I slid them into my case, open and jumbled, and shut the clasps.

I moved past the guard and walked out into the main room. I felt outside of myself. He was wrong, wrong, wrong. I could not be fired. This was my life. I walked to my mailbox and shoved the whole contents into the outer pocket of my bag. My jacket was slung around the chair and I pulled it on. I took in the grain on the wood tables where I shared music trivia with the other DJs, the posters on the wall I'd helped to put up, the closed glossy office door where Payne would rule from on Monday. I glanced up at the chalkboard where a grid showed every DJ's name, about fifty of us, filling three-hour slots throughout the week and I had to stop.

"Just a minute," I glanced at the guard who was waiting by the door. My grid box was decorated by my name in yellow chalk with a rocking chair just below. I reached up to the box with the chalk and sloppily underlined my name in thick flaky strokes. It wasn't going to be easy for them to erase me.