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there is NOTHING TO SEE HERE so what are you looking at? |
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What makes me happy my wife my son writing books listening to music comic books movies fantasy football man's exploration of space law & order unemployment ======== What I dislike Working at uninteresting, unfulfilling, jobs My wife on PMS (hey, at least I'm honest about it) Ignorant people who are unwilling to learn ======== One current obsession Trading Music CDs For $1 ======== Sequential artwork I've recently read **** out of ***** ======== If I were single, here's who I'd like to ask out and inevitably be turned down by... Sanaa Lathan ======== Serialized television viewing DEADWOOD ****1/2 out of *****
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Recent posts Sydney Harbor Pic / Intelligent Design Takes A Hit / Why Men Don't Work Weird Home Stuff / More New Home Stuff / Lala.com Sunday Morning Shuffle 6/25/2006: Ultimate Playlist ======== Sites I visit regularly ======== Reading or Read Recently
======== Listening
======== Cooler than a penguin's feet Venus and Earth ===========
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(most recent article on top, earlier articles on bottom)
August 3, 2006: 0721 hours TERRIBLE WEEKEND THROWING NEWSPAPERS I had a terrible weekend throwing newspapers. So bad in fact, that I am just now getting over it enough to write about it here. This tale of woe begins with the great news that today, my wife will deliver our second child, a daughter. We know the exact date because my wife is having a Caesarian section delivery, and when you deliver that way you can schedule the delivery just as any other surgery. Because of this imminent birth, I decided not to take on any paper routes for the two weeks or so following the birth. However, that would force me to dip a little more into my savings than I would like. To alleviate this financial burden a bit, I decided to throw double routes this past weekend (and surrounding days) to make some extra cash. It turned out to be a good weekend to do so because many carriers wanted a sub for those days. The only day I was not going to double-book was Sunday, when I throw a very large route (400 papers) which precludes me from double-dipping on that day. I double-booked Thursday-Saturday. One carrier who'd asked me to cover her route Thursday-Saturday asked me to also cover her for Sunday. I told her that I was doing a very large route and I could not double-dip with her route. She then went into this maudlin tale of how she was going to have surgery and really needed me to do her route on Sunday because the doctors ordered her to stay off her feet until Monday. She said she didn't care if I finished her route later than the 7:00 AM Sunday deadline. I reiterated that I would indeed finish later than seven, and perhaps much later. She said she didn't care, as long as I did the route. So, against my better judgment, I agreed. The paper she throws prints a smaller number of pages and usually has only two sections on Sunday, as opposed to the three sections the other paper prints on Sunday. I figured I could zoom through the roll-and-drive portions of the route. The trouble began around Tuesday of last week when she called back to say her plans had changed and she did not need me to cover for her on Thursday or Friday. Normally, I give carriers a hard time when they cancel gigs on my with such short notice (which doesn't allow for me to rebook with another carrier), but since I was already double booked for those two nights I let her slide. Little was I to know then that the next day, the guy whose route I was also covering on Thursday and Friday would call the next day and cancel the Thursday and Friday portions. Needless to say, going from 4 routes' income in 2 days to zero income kind of pissed me off. When Friday rolled around, that same guy called me to cancel the Saturday portion of that gig. He then had the gall to ask me to cover his route on Monday and Tuesday because he was going to the beach with his wife and daughter. I told him that he was putting me in a difficult position because he wanted me to not only take money out of my pocket for the weekend, but have me agree to add a late-booked gig to my schedule. Prudence won out over indignation and I acquiesced, with the stipulation that he not renege on the early Saturday portion of his Saturday route, which would net me $100. He agreed. So Friday night (or more properly, early Saturday morning) I threw papers from eight at night until seven Saturday morning. It was a brutal night, including 150 miles driven and over 4500 newspapers. I was compensated well for my time, about $400, but I was dog-tired. The real trouble hit Saturday night (again, really it was early Sunday morning) when I went out to throw 675 Sunday papers split among two routes and two different newspaper companies. I arrived at the first warehouse twenty minutes early, figuring I could load the pre-run copies in the car while I waited for the truck to arrive with the freshly-printed front section. For some strange reason, the managers did not open the warehouse until ten minutes after two, leaving me to wait outside for nearly thirty minutes with nothing to do. When I finally got in and loaded my car, I had to wait a few minutes longer for the truck which arrived more than half an hour late. Normally, that's not such a big deal, but because I had two routes to do, that put me behind the clock before I'd even thrown my first paper. So I head out to throw the first route. About 70% through that route, I abandoned it to go pick up the papers for the second route. I had to wait that long because I had to empty the car of enough papers to allow me to pick up the papers from the second warehouse. However, I couldn't wait until I had completed the first route because I had to pick up the second route's papers before five in the morning so the managers there wouldn't freak out at the late pick up. On my way to the second warehouse, I got pulled for a policeman for speeding. He was nice about it, but the end result was a $125 speeding ticket. Another end result is that he wasted over 20 minutes of my already tight schedule, and I didn't get to the second warehouse until 5:45. When I went in to get the papers, I was surprised to find a three-part paper instead of an easier to manage two-part paper. I was also surprised to find that these were three THICK parts, not three easier-to-handle smaller parts. It took some creative packing to fit all the papers in the car along with the other 150 even larger papers remaining in the car from the first route. By the time I loaded up the car and departed the second warehouse to complete the first route, it was after 6:00. I informed the manager of the second route to tell dispatch that I wouldn't finish until 7:30 or so. He was nervous about the time, but nice enough about the situation seeing that I had just gotten a ticket. I finished that first route at 7:15, a quarter hour past the 7:00 deadline. I stopped and began rolling the 285 papers that comprised the second route. After I had rolled approximately a third of those, I set off to begin the second route. It was 7:45, forty-five minutes beyond the 7:00 deadline. A few throws into that second route, I called dispatch myself to inform them that I would not complete the route until 8:15. I knew I wasn't going to be finished by that time, but previous experiences have taught me that dispatch will not extend carriers much beyond that time. I took what I could get. Eventually, I ran out of rolled papers and had to stop the car to roll more papers. To my horror, I ran out of Sunday-sized bags. That meant I had to insert the papers into smaller bags I had in my trunk. That practically tripled the time needed to roll the papers, and I was already nearly two hours late at this point. By the last third of the route, the entire neighborhood was alive with residents. People were walking the dogs, jogging down the streets, playing with children in driveways, puttering around the gardens. Meanwhile, I was yet again parking my car and rolling papers, stuffing them into bags too small by half, rivulets of sweat (not perspiration, but serious SWEAT) running down my face, my tank top soaked from neck to waist. My cell phone rang and I recognized the number to dispatch on the screen. I cursed the phone and didn't answer it. I must have looked like a mad man to the elderly ladies sitting on their front porches in front of their $400,000-$800,000 homes. Did I mention this was a very swanky neighborhood? On top of everything else that could and did go wrong this night/morning, I was throwing in a upper-crust neighborhood. That exasperates late complaints because wealthy people are accustomed to getting their way, and they are accustomed to complaining when they don't get their way. When they don't get their newspaper in time for morning coffee, they don't just stew about it, they call dispatch to complain about it. Every fucking time they call. I didn't throw the final paper until about 9:30. After I'd thrown that paper, I turned around to find stacks of rolled and bagged papers, and more stacks of unrolled papers. Somehow, the managers at the warehouse had put too many papers on my table. My frustration topped out when I realized that not only had I suffered through loading wayyyyyy too many papers into my tiny Sentra, but that I'd rolled 30 papers too many into too small bags. I cursed aloud a few times, lit my fourth Black & Mild Mild for the night/morning, and set off for home. My wife called (for the second time in the past thirty minutes) to ask when I was coming home. Usually, I return home before she and our son awaken. I didn't get home until nearly ten in the morning. Later, the carrier called and asked how the route had gone. I told her it was a time disaster, but that I didn't think I actually missed any throws because I missed none on Saturday. She then informed me that she had gone to an out-of-state amusement park for the weekend. "Amusement park," I stuttered the words, flabbergasted. "I thought you were having an operation." "Oh," she said condescendingly. "You must not listen very well. I told you Thursday that I had canceled the operation and was going to the amusement park instead." "No, you didn't" "Yes, I did," she said pleasant as sunshine on a great morning. "Anyway, it doesn't make a difference why I took the time off, does it?" I was practically seething. The only reason I'd agreed to do her Sunday route was because I felt sorry for her because she was undergoing surgery. Had I known she was going to ride rollercoasters instead, I would have stood by my refusal to cover her route. And, I would not have gotten a $125 speeding ticket trying to cram two large routes into a five-hour span. I would not have jeopardized my good-will standing with the managers of that paper, who often call on me to help them out when they need assistance. Fast forward to Tuesday. I get a call from the carrier of that second route. She informs me that forty people complained about receiving their Sunday paper late, and that at $5 a pop, she was possibly in line for a $200 deduction from her paycheck. We agreed that she should check with the managers because they often dismiss such charges under the proper circumstances. She called back Wednesday, yesterday, to say the manager refused to reverse the charges. We went back and forth for a while, but I told her the bottom line was that I was not going to absorb any of those late charges because I told her plainly that I already had a route for Sunday and that I would not complete her route by the deadline, and that she had agreed to that. Besides, I was already $75 in the hole for that night, after sweating through three hours for her. When we hung up, she was not happy. Bitch! But that was cool with me because I wasn't exactly happy myself. Usually, I don't like to leave a disagreement with a carrier with an unhappy resolution, but in this case, I really didn't give a damn. I'd done her route once before. She'd booked me on three other occasions and canceled at the last moment. It wasn't any loss to me that she would never call me to sub her route again. In fact, she's now on my blacklist, so even if she calls and tells me she's being held hostage by Buddhist terrorists and offered me $200 a night, I wouldn't do her route. A man has to have principals. The one bit of good news about the entire fiasco is that the managers at that second paper harbor no ill will toward me. I know this because I got a call from one of them yesterday asking me to cover a route last night (this morning.) Though I have a baby due to be delivered this morning, I agreed to do it, in the spirit of good will among us. Anyway, that's enough bitching from me about how difficult my weekend was. Let me get on to the good things in life. For instance, taking a shower and taking my wife to the hospital so we can finally see our new daughter. By noon, we will have a new addition to our family. I'll post a picture. Promise. |
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Overworm is a writer available for work and/or agent representation. I write mysteries, tales of suspense, and African-American fiction. I also write articles for web and print, and marketing collateral. |
nothing to see here |
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