Every Sunday morning, a newspaper is delivered to our house. It's actually a bundle of a small local paper and snippets from the larger regional paper, like a teaser of what you could get if you paid for the big fancy newspaper. You know you want more bits of entertainment, religion, politics, etc. No, there is no such thing as the internet. Subscribe!
Either the delivery person has problems with depth perception, a bad throwing arm, hates his job or is taunting me for not paying for the real deal. Fact is, I've found the paper in the middle of the lawn, behind the shrubs, sort of near my sidewalk and, most recently, right behind the back tire of my van.
This doesn't put much faith in the service I would receive if I paid for the paper. I would rather not pay for delivery and have a daily hunt for this so-called treasure. You would think if they are truly trying to get subscribers they would walk up and place it gently on the steps, maybe wrapped in a ribbon and filled with some sort of newspaperly present like reading glasses or a bundle of coupon inserts.
What do I get, an impromptu hunt for a paper I don't want, after it has landed in my muddy or snowy lawn, landed behind my shrubs or ran over by my van. Half the time it doesn't even make it to the recycle bin because it's soaked and dirty. I should look up his license plate and get him ticketed for littering.
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