When I was nineteen, I worked for The Plano Star Courier doing paste-up and typesetting advertisements. Mostly, real estate ads. You know the kind — little picture of a house above a little blurb about the house, maybe with a picture of the realtor inset in the corner. We did tons of those things. Between car ads and the real estate ads, we were plenty busy. At any rate, one day they didn’t send in the name of the realtor for this specific house. Just a listing. No other information. I figured, “I’ll just put in a placeholder, and when they see that in the proof process, they’ll let me know who it is.” But they didn’t catch it. Which is why it ran saying, “Call the Mystery Realtor at 555-1234.” I got in some trouble for that one, but not too much. Apparently, the only one who was really pissed off was the Mystery Realtor herself — and I thought since they signed off on the ad that it was her own damn fault.