Here at the AT newsfeed, what we say matters. Careers can be made or broken, lives elevated or destroyed, all with a simple press of the ENTER key.
Is there risk in what we do? Sure. But we’re used to having danger sit shotgun.
Of course, not everyone wants to join us for that ride. That’s why this week, in introducing you to our two new employees, we’re going to present one bogus biography and one authentic one.
Undoubtedly, you’ll want to know which is which—just as firing squad conscripts want to know who shot the conscience round. But that’s not gonna happen.
First let’s meet our new underwriter and AT culture warrior, Ann Marie Hernandez:
Ever wonder if it will play in Peoria? You can check with Ann Marie, because that’s where she’s from: Peoria, Illinois. (She has zero time for those low-life hooligans in Springfield.)
Ann Marie plays the banjo, and has heard every Deliverance joke you can think of. Try one on her, and she’s liable to drown you out with a little Foggy Mountain Breakdown. You can’t beat her at this game, so you might as well join her. Bring your dobro.
A completely unrelated hobby for Ann Marie—one of the more unusual ones we’ve come across—is butter sculpting. She admits to being a bit of a perfectionist in this pursuit, but says there’s simply no margarine for error.
Her dream vacation is very specific: Whistler, British Columbia. Beautiful place, and an easy target for a juvenile joke: “Whistler? I don’t even know her.”
We hope you make it up to Canada soon, A.M. But maybe hang with us until the spring thaw.
Next up is Krisanne Hudson, our new nurse triage program supervisor:
Krisanne’s from Allentown, Pennsylvania, where the graduations hang on the wall. And Krisanne’s got a slew of them. In fact, there are so many letters after her name, her business card has an extender-flap.
There’s an odd exoskeleton theme working its way through her bio: She loves she-crab soup (when prepared properly), but hates crickets and grasshoppers (no matter how they’re prepared). One reason for the latter may be their nasty habit of spitting. Cobras and alpacas got nothing on them.
Krisanne’s no stranger to expectoration, either—in the face of death, that is. How so? She digs zip-lining and bungee jumping. But who’s surprised? She’s mighty, just like the river that bears her name.
Welcome to Ashton Tiffany, Krisanne. May the crab roe in your soup be as orange as a prison jumpsuit.