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The GM From Hell A few years back I was doing a midday stint at this station. There were two FMs and our News/Talk AM. The PD's of the two FM stations were puppets. They had no say in the execution of the stations formats or promotions. The GM did it all. The stress level of the employees in the building was and probably still is, so high you could cut it with a knife. When he would hire new sales people. They usually lasted only about a week or so. He had certain requirements to be hired onto the sales force. Tits and ass! To appreciate this story you had to know what this guy looked like. 35 years old with short grey hair, fat and only about five foot two. He looked like that Burger King cartoon character wimpy. One afternoon he was cooking on the grill next to the station. One of the new account executives approached him about a potential $800 account. Apparently it was with someone in the community that he had a bad relationship with. An argument ensued and he picked up the spatula and pointed at her and started screaming so loud you would think his goofy little head would pop. He got grease all over this girls breasts. She stood there and stared at him in disbelief. All he could sneer to her was "what the matter? got grease on your blouse?". The owner of the station lived about 100 miles away and was pretty much unaware what a slime this guy is. The owners mother died. The GM put up a memo requiring the entire staff including the meth smoking janitor to show up at the funeral so he would look good in front of the owner. I mean common-not even respect for the dead! This guy lied on affidavits to a company back east saying we were playing the spots they paid for but we were not. He would pocket remote money that should have gone to the jocks himself. Our receptionist and business manager were so miserable that it was not uncommon to see them in tears. In fact the jock that later replaced me was crying in the control room two weeks after she took the gig. When ever he was out of the building there were brief moments of joy. Someone was always looking out the window so that they could jump on the all page and alert everyone to the little Napoleon's return. You could go in the station newsroom and look at map of the city. There's an
arrow pointing to the location of the station saying "you are here".
Thumbtacked to the map is a small folded peice of paper. When you take
it down and unfolded it -it reads "RADIO HELL".
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