I was the world’s worst paperboy. In the salad days before the Internet, newspaper delivery boys achieved a certain status among pre-teens. We delivered the news. In my case, I usually delivered it late on a rickety 10-speed bicycle. I never saw a papergirl, but she would have been a big improvement on my abysmal record.
I like to blame my poor delivery skills on the fact I never wanted to be a paperboy in the first place. I needed a job after lawn-cutting season ended and a classmate’s older brother was looking for someone to help him expand his route.