I’m an ex-paperboy so I’m sensitive to delivery people that get shitted on all day long. I was chased by a Border Collie, growled at by a Doberman and served my calf as lunch to a German Shepherd. And that was just the first week. Dogs detested me, and I really put a serious amount of time pondering how I could win them over.
I started carrying dog biscuits and would toss them to break their guard dog attention, so I could get close enough to the front porch to deliver a decent paper toss. And it worked. For a few weeks. But they seemed to get nonchalant toward the biscuits, so I stepped up the distraction to something that looked like a Slim Jim (which are disgusting by the way) for dogs. Got a good run outta them because they came in three flavors; chicken, veal and beef. The rotation kept ’em intrigued. I got my route delivered in under an hour.
So we were ebony and ivory for a while and living in perfect harmony, but eventually the signs of aggression start to return. The showing of teeth, that threatening growl from the back of their throats and the full out unprovoked series of attacks. I wanted to quit but I had this entrepreneurial drive that wouldn’t allow me to. It was time to up the ante on the distraction treats. I started my route around three o’clock and there was usually something on the counter thawing out for dinner. Lightbulb.
I started by picking at a chicken breast. Yep raw chicken. I’d toss them chicken pieces. These dogs were so distracted, not only could I deliver the newspaper with ease but I probably could have stolen the flatware too. So we had a new improved rotation which now included hamburger meat, veal chops, lamb chops, pork chops … if it came in a chop it made the trip.
Back at the mess hall, nobody seemed to catch on for quite a long time. Dinner at my house was the most uncomfortable seven minutes of the day. With this new “feed the dogs” strategy we easily got the drudgery completed under five minutes, and everyone seemed the better for it.
That was until a chink in the plan came into play.
The birth of TV dinners. My mother was a lousy cook so she took to the TV dinner trend like crystal meth. She somehow fooled us all that she made these dinners herself, with a smart looking display and a few arbitrarily placed parsley snips for garnish.
Family happy. Me not.
And guess who else wasn’t happy. Yep, every single canine on my newspaper route. And their revolt was massive. Seems they got together and concocted a plan. The first dog on the route would announce my arrival and then a full on attack ensued. No more singular escapes possible. Surrender once surrounded.
I had to give the route up. Hey face it. I sucked at it anyway. Half of the time I was a day late, which in the sixties meant most of my customers learned a man landed on the moon from office friends and certainly not the newspaper.
Thanks to my nonchalant service, people were floored to find out JFK was shot over a week after the actual deed was done.
They started to revolt far more seriously than their pets.
Sadly, CNN was nowhere near their launch.