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Monday, March 11, 2013

Paper Boy Thug

I'm really pissed off.

This is probably my PMS talking, but whatever.  Humor me.

So.  The previous tenants of this house shared our last name.  It's been a huge pain in the butt.  Don't even get me started on the postal service.  Anyway, about a month after we moved in, my doorbell rang at 9:45pm.  I was already in bed with a sick kid, Husband wasn't home, and I was afraid I was about to be the victim of a home invasion.  What I found on the other side of the door was almost as bad:  a couple of newspaper boy thugs, maybe 11 or 12-years old.  The conversation went something like this:

Me:  Can I help you boys?

Thug #1:  We're here to collect for the paper.

Thug #2:  You're three months behind!

Me:  We've only lived here for a month.

Thug #1:  Aren't you Mrs. Brown?

Me:  Yes, but--

Thug #2:  You owe us $9.75!

Me:  --the woman who lived here before me was also Mrs. Brown.

Thug #1:  You owe us $9.75.

Me:  No, I never ordered a paper.

Thug #1:  We've been delivering it here, so you have to pay.

Me:  I didn't even know it was our paper.  I've been throwing it in the neighbors' yard.

Thug #2:  You have to pay us $9.75!

Thug #1:  Yeah.

Me:  But I didn't--you know, whatever.  So this will pay me up until...

Thug #1:  We'll come back again next month and collect for this month.

Me:  Whatever.

I paid them so that I could keep receiving the paper, and I went back to bed, highly annoyed.  I didn't know that it was my paper before, but I supposed that it would be nice to get a weekly paper, even if I felt like I was being taken advantage of.

As time has gone on, the newspaper delivery has been spotty, at best.  In the last month, I have received exactly one paper.  This made me very angry, as I had begun to look forward to receiving a weekly newspaper delivery.

Tonight, the doorbell rang.  As I asked Husband to keep our dogs from eating whomever was on the other side, I opened the door to find it was one of the newspaper boys.  Thug #1.  I was hoping he'd come back soon, so I could complain to him, and I was ready to do just that.  Here's what happened:

Thug #1:  I'm here to collect for the paper.

Me:  Yeah, I'm not paying for that.  I haven't been receiving a paper.

Thug #1:  Well, we deliver it.

Me:  Well, I've gotten exactly one in the last month, and it was sitting in a puddle all soggy.

Thug #1:  Well, maybe someone is stealing it.  You still have to pay for it.

Me:  I'm not paying for something I never received.

Thug #1:  You have to pay.

Me:  No, I don't.

Thug #1:  Yes you do!  If you want to stop getting the paper, you have to contact the subscription office!

Me:  I HAVEN'T BEEN RECEIVING THE PAPER!  Also, I never ordered a subscription!  The people who lived here before us--

Thug #1:  Yeah, they had the same last name, I know.

Me:  Exactly.

Thug #1:  You have to pay!

Me:  I'm not going to.  Tell your boss to call me.

(He throws up his hands and walks away)

Husband:  Whoa, whoa whoa.  (calling after the boy)  Wait a minute!

Me:  What are you doing?

Husband:  Haven't you ever had a paper route?  He has to pay for it if we don't!  That's not fair!

I get boiling mad and leave, while Husband pays the little thug for papers we never received.

This angers me on so many levels.  First of all, uh, SOLIDARITY!  My husband is supposed to be on MY side, not the side of a rude little brat who may or may not be lying about delivering my paper.  Second of all, it's the principle of the thing.  I already paid for a bunch of papers I didn't receive (when I moved in), and I shouldn't have to pay for more of them.  Third of all, I do not let little boys push me around.

Husband said that he didn't want it getting around the neighborhood that we got into an argument and refused to pay the paper boy.  I don't know how he thinks that will happen, but even if it DID happen, it's not like I didn't have a good reason.  And his point about him having to pay for the papers if we didn't, well, that doesn't bother me either, because if he'd been doing his job correctly and throwing  them at my door instead of leaving them on the sidewalk in front of my house, they'd be less likely to get stolen (if he was delivering them at all, which I highly doubt).

Anyway, now I'm pissed off at my husband AND at the paper boy.  I know that I should choose my battles, and he was probably only going to ask me for a few bucks, but I'm big on boycotts, and as far as I'm concerned, my husband crossed the picket line.

Blah.  Whatever.  I'm going to have a bath and a drink now.

ETA:  I am no longer angry with Husband.  As I was writing this, he left an angry message at the newspaper office.  I guess he loves me after all.
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