Through the Eyes of a Delivery Goddess |
|
|
This is one of those, "Couldn't do it again if I tried" type of stories. We have several plans of town houses and condos to which we deliver, and in the dark, the numbers are nearly impossible to see. Once you figure out where the house number is, either with a flashlight or by waiting until daylight to find a new start for the day, you begin to learn which car is parked in front of the door and you can just toss the paper under the back bumper of the same car every night. Of course, it's always a monkey wrench if someone has company or gets a new car, but for the most part, that's a pretty solid tool to use.  There are folks, however, that request it at the door or on the sidewalk, so you do your best to toss the paper toward the front bumper of a certain car. Keep in mind, what we're looking at during the night are the back bumpers of the cars, and not really the front doors, or even the houses themselves. One night while aiming at a front door, as usual, I curled my arm with the paper in front of my face frisbee style and threw as hard as I could to reach the door step. Just as I let go - there is usually no way of stopping once you've started - I noticed this floating ember dancing above the sidewalk in front of the town house. I'm sure that in the dark, that person smoking a cigarette had no idea he needed to duck the newspaper bulleting toward him, any more than I knew he was there before I let go of the paper. I heard a small, "AUHH !!" then heard the paper hit the ground. There is no way for me to know if I hit him, or just whizzed it past his head (or hers) enough to scare him, but I'm sure I got his attention. "Your morning paper's here!! " hahaha. I of course did not say anything, but I thought it. Without the cigarette, I'd have never seen a person there, and even if I HAD seen someone there ahead of time, and actually aimed for them, I seriously doubt I could have hit them with the paper. Couldn't do it again if I tried. |