My Life As A Paperboy
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My Life As A Paperboy
I'm Milkshaked up right now but I'm going to try this anyway.
1991. Junior year in prep school (Elm St in Des Moines) I answered an ad, "Paper boy needed. Must have bike & lock". It was at a newsagent on 16th street. I borrowed my dad's cruiser, bought a length of chain at a hardware store & a Masterlock.
Mostly delivering papers, it started a career I would never forget. I graduated to a SS conversion, then another being infulenced buy the sleek bikes of other paper boys. I had several other name brand frames, but because of the time that has passed & candy use, the names escape me. I just know they were expensive & way too small.
Soon I had a Huffy bmx frame in my size, pearl white paint & my first set of true skyway tuff wheels. I don't even remember how I got it. I worked for several companies, many times I worked for 2 companies at a time. I made loads of cash, most of which I drank (imported soda is expensive) & I bought lots of those chocolate cigarettes.
I was locked out of the house once because I forgot my key, so I slept on subway trains with my bike locked to a pole inside the train, bag still strapped on, hugging it like a pillow. Many times my slumber was interrupted by train personnel nudging me like, "hey, buddy. It's the last stop. You have to get off". Eventually I went home cos I knew Mom would be back from shopping then. It was almost dark out.
There wasn't cell phones like now, just whistles & the "nickel trick" (you'd insert a quarter into a payphone, press the lever slightly until you heard a click, the quarter would drop out & you'd then insert a nickel & make the call. I knew every payphone in Des Moines that this trick worked on). The whole test to become a paper boy was, the dispatcher would ask you something like, "where's your ass?" If you answered correctly, you were hired.
Those were good times. I still sometimes want to go back to being a paper boy. It was one of the only gigs where, fresh out of nappies, you could get hired based on your knowledge of the suburb, then excel because of your speed & likability.
There were programs on local TV featuring paper boys (remember that show with Chris Elliott – “Get a life”) and that video game, too, highlighting that it's one of the most dangerous jobs in the city, yet we're not covered by insurance. They highlighted the different bikers that werekilled in the line of duty, calling for a "Paper Boy Union" (is there one now?)
I loved being a paper boy. I salute those of you who pound it out every day. Ride safe.
1991. Junior year in prep school (Elm St in Des Moines) I answered an ad, "Paper boy needed. Must have bike & lock". It was at a newsagent on 16th street. I borrowed my dad's cruiser, bought a length of chain at a hardware store & a Masterlock.
Mostly delivering papers, it started a career I would never forget. I graduated to a SS conversion, then another being infulenced buy the sleek bikes of other paper boys. I had several other name brand frames, but because of the time that has passed & candy use, the names escape me. I just know they were expensive & way too small.
Soon I had a Huffy bmx frame in my size, pearl white paint & my first set of true skyway tuff wheels. I don't even remember how I got it. I worked for several companies, many times I worked for 2 companies at a time. I made loads of cash, most of which I drank (imported soda is expensive) & I bought lots of those chocolate cigarettes.
I was locked out of the house once because I forgot my key, so I slept on subway trains with my bike locked to a pole inside the train, bag still strapped on, hugging it like a pillow. Many times my slumber was interrupted by train personnel nudging me like, "hey, buddy. It's the last stop. You have to get off". Eventually I went home cos I knew Mom would be back from shopping then. It was almost dark out.
There wasn't cell phones like now, just whistles & the "nickel trick" (you'd insert a quarter into a payphone, press the lever slightly until you heard a click, the quarter would drop out & you'd then insert a nickel & make the call. I knew every payphone in Des Moines that this trick worked on). The whole test to become a paper boy was, the dispatcher would ask you something like, "where's your ass?" If you answered correctly, you were hired.
Those were good times. I still sometimes want to go back to being a paper boy. It was one of the only gigs where, fresh out of nappies, you could get hired based on your knowledge of the suburb, then excel because of your speed & likability.
There were programs on local TV featuring paper boys (remember that show with Chris Elliott – “Get a life”) and that video game, too, highlighting that it's one of the most dangerous jobs in the city, yet we're not covered by insurance. They highlighted the different bikers that werekilled in the line of duty, calling for a "Paper Boy Union" (is there one now?)
I loved being a paper boy. I salute those of you who pound it out every day. Ride safe.
#2
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hahahaha
#3
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Nice satire
#4
extra bitter
the pape-R-boy life is hard nocks--kids don't play on my paper bags
becauss they cant handel the dreams or their done ...--
--
drink some cool aid kid... ride a camel...
rep up and step up.
becauss they cant handel the dreams or their done ...--
--
drink some cool aid kid... ride a camel...
rep up and step up.
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thanks for the smiles!
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Banned.
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#10
Steel snob by accident
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