The THWACK! is immediately followed by the guttural woofs and ear-piercing shrills of three startled canines. My deeply relaxed eyelids spring open in alarm. As the sounds filter through my rapidly dissolving dream I realize that he's done it again!For years I have had a love-hate relationship with newspaper delivery guys. Either they don't show up, are uselessly late, or poor aim lands the paper in the shrubs somewhere on the property. Just recently, prompted by the publication of a few of my pieces in local papers, I decided to try again. And the agony of the last attempt had subsided just enough to make it seem viable.
Wrong! While the Patriot Ledger person is stellar, the Boston Globe dude is a real nut cruncher. Every morning he throws the bloody paper like a guided missile toward my front door and it hits with a noise that can be heard on the next block. I have called a few times and told them that would prefer to walk down the drive if that is the only other option. But no, this guy has it out for me.
Somehow Globe Guy has discovered that I get up at 4:30AM several mornings a week and feels that sleeping in until 6:00 on the others should not be an option.
This morning, as I struggled unsuccessfully to get back to sleep, I had thoughts of lying in wait and chucking the newspaper at his retreating back. Another option would be to put one of those ball catchers used for hitting golf balls in front of the door to stop the paper before impact.
Or I guess I can settle for being grateful that he gives me something to bitch about.
1 comment:
A Sunday visit to Ruth's blog once again leaves me feeling uplifted in the way that only good writing can. Ruth's wit and good humor first lulls me in, and then when I least expect it, she delivers the one-two punch of an achingly real truth about life. Her stories of a complex childhood reveal a keen eye, great heart and much courage.
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