When I was fourteen, my dad told me to get a job. He was sick of giving me money to spend on movies and candy and now that I was getting older and would want to be taking girls out, he sure wasn't going to give me any money for that. I read an advertisement in the local paper for a newspaper boy. All you needed was a bike and you were practically guaranteed a job.
I showed up at the newspaper office. I asked a scrawny greasy boy a little older than me for Mr. Grady. He led me into an office upstairs to a gray older man with a big mustache that covered his mouth and bounced when he talked. He asked me if I'd have problems getting up at five in the morning, rain, snow, or shine. I said no. He said that I get one sick day every six months. Then he said that because these newspapers come in newspaper bags, they were more popular than any of the other newspapers. See, they had a deal with a local plastic manufacturer who custom made these newspaper bags for them. None of the other newspapers knew about this yet. It made it easier on me, since I wouldn't have to go up to the doorstep to lay the paper; everyone who subscribed knew and expected the paper somewhere in their driveway, which made it a quick toss, which also meant more papers distributed, which was why they were able to pay me $3.00 per hour. Mr. Grady told me that I'd start Saturday. I told him I had school during the week and he said that was fine. He expected me to work every day, from five-thirty to seven-thirty, which meant almost $50 per week.
That Saturday, I got up with the birds in the trees and rode half asleep to the office where I picked up the papers to start my route. I was so tired when I was done that I practically slept till noon. During the school week I went to bed at eight o' clock every night. Pretty soon it became a routine I dreaded. It was also starting to get colder - it was October.
After three weeks I had had enough. I'd made $150 bucks - more than I'd need for the next six months. I decided I'd get another job when the time came. And yet, it's strange how I fondly remember those few weeks when I delivered the newspapers in their newspaper bags…
Author Resource:-
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