(Original Blog was posted on Myspace 3 years ago)
Because of my determination to be able to stay home, when they offered me a paper route on Douglas I took it. For those who may not be familiar with the City and Borough of Juneau, for a person who lives in the Mendenhall Valley to take a paper route on Douglas Island is pretty ridiculous. My route is a good 20 minute drive away from where I live. No biggie except for the fact that we have only one car, I don’t have a cell phone, and Ken is one of the hardest people in the whole wide world to wake up.
When someone starts a paper route, they have an employee of the paper run the route with you for a couple days until they think you can handle it. So, by the time I was able to run the route 2 or 3 times by myself, I started regretting my decision. (Its funny how cruising around by yourself at 2 or 3 in the morning can get a person really thinking.) The area I deliver too is pretty dark and pretty spooky some mornings. I started thinking of worse case scenarios and then started figuring out how much more gas I was using… anything to try to convince the Juneau Empire that they needed to give me a route in the Valley. What it came down to is this: I have our only car, 20 minutes away from our home, if something happened i.e. Keys locked in car, car wreck, hit a deer, chased by a bear, you name it, I would be Sh** out of luck and have no cell phone to call for help.
The moral of this story is: Don’t dwell on the negative because it WILL happen.
The other day I was cruising along, delivering papers at record speed when I was coming up to what is about the halfway point of the route, the low income housing. I parked my van, left it running with the hazard lights on and the door partially open and ran up the stairs to deliver to the first two apartments. My van is brand new this year and has sensors so that if your keys are in the ignition, you can’t lock the doors unless you use the key fob while standing outside the van. This is how it’s supposed to work anyway…
I felt like I was in a horror flick watching the victim step into a trap….. As I pulled on the handle to open the door I watch as the lock simultaneously lowered into locked position and naturally a string of technically terms flowed from my lips. No, no, no, no, no! I ran from door to door then to the back hatch praying that one of the doors would be open – no such luck. I peered through the window at the glowing clock on the dash
4:00 am
I then slowly peered to my right and looked longingly at my sweatshirt and coat that lay on the seat as the wind picked up and it started to rain –no joke – this stuff only happens on TV, right? Stranger than fiction, the story of my life. Anyway…
I had no choice but to wander and look for lights on somewhere within the low income housing and pray the person whose door I knocked on wasn’t a crazed mad person.
As I wandered, I saw the light of a TV shining through the shaded windows. And little kids bikes, even better, and a sign written in what looked like children’s handwriting saying “praise Jah” Great, they’re religious too. I stepped into the dark doorway and knocked on the door. The door opened about two inches and I was hit with so much cigarette smoke I thought I’d die of second hand then and there. The man was short, and from what I could see, naked. I told him I was sorry for disturbing him and that I was delivering papers, my keys were locked in the car and I was wondering if I could use his phone. He shut the door and then moments later opened the door just wide enough to slip a cell phone through as he said “when you’re done, leave it just inside the door.”
I called the house knowing the chances of Ken picking up were slim… ringing… no answer. I tried again with no luck. I then called his “on call” work cell phone hoping the different ring tone would snap him awake so that he’d answer – ha! No such luck. I then called Ken’s parents, ringing and then the answering machine picked up. (This is where I really start to freak) I called Ken’s parents one more time and finally got an answer. I quickly relayed my story and Ken’s dad asked if Ken would shoot him if he went to wake him up. (This is a legitimate question as Ken used to sleep with a gun) I told him that I broke Ken of that habit so he should be okay. I explained where I was and hung up the phone. I slowly opened the door, slipped the cell phone through and placed it on the floor.
I walked back to the van (still running, hazards blinking, radio blaring, wipers swishing) and spread myself out over the front of it to keep warm. Two people drove past without even slowing down to see if I needed help. 45 minutes later, my in-laws pulled up and handed me Ken’s key. I said thank you-thank you, jumped into my van and rushed off to finish the last of my route since the papers need to be delivered by 6 am or else they charge me. Because every story needs irony, as I was delivering to the Douglas Library (with my hazards on due to multiple stops) and a cop slowed down to see if I was okay.
*sigh*
I now deliver papers with Ken’s key in my pocket at all times.
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