Job numero uno is going to be, of course, collating The Bag and preparing it for delivery. I’m just praying that there won’t be any of the cardboard elongated ads, which slow the process up quite a bit. Even with the regular bundles of Kroger, Meijer, and Marc’s ads, it’s not a swift process, but putting in the long ads makes it even worse.
I’ve given Susie incentive to move as rapidly as she can. She wants to be Archie #600, where Archie Andrews finally chooses between Betty and Veronica, so I told her that if we move like lightning, she and I can go to Laughing Ogre (I hope on foot, since I’m jonesing for a good hike) and buy it. Tomorrow she’s going to call Laughing Ogre and find out whether they have issue #600 in stock and how late they’re open. (I have to admit that Archie finally settling this 60+-year-old question has piqued my curiosity as well.)
Steph took Susie and Susie’s friend Dee Dee to the Ohio State Fair yesterday. She’s stronger than I am–I don’t care much for fairs and amusement parks, and they were there for almost 12 hours. Susie, after paying about $10 for chances, finally "won" a toy dog. I walked to and from the Whetstone Library via Subway.
Now that I have my Bag gig, from Friday to Saturday I religiously check The Weather Channel, to see just what I’m facing when I venture out of doors. I doubt anyone will complain if they don’t get The Bag–they’re not paying for it, the way they would The Dispatch, after all. Nonetheless, I try to hit all the addresses on my delivery list and on the manifest in as little time as possible.
So far I haven’t suffered injury, dog bites, or insults from dissatisfied customers. I thought I would have troubles last Sunday in the predawn hours, because I wasn’t sure when I’d trigger a burglar alarm or awaken a hostile dog. There were many houses where I would cause yard floodlights to come on once I ventured into a certain area close to the house. I immediately cursed myself for not bringing along a flashlight, but usually I could tell house numbers by using street lights. There are also many people who keep their porch lights on all night, even after they’ve gone to bed.
The closest I came to danger was right toward the end, right on my own block. Several of the streets are set high up on a bank, which means they have steep steps to reach them. Dawn had already broken as I was in the home stretch of my route, but I was at the top of one flight of steps that I call Exorcist steps. (The real Exorcist steps are located at the end of M St., NW in Washington, DC near Georgetown University.) The steps were wet and I lost my footing for a half second. Many of them are cracked already, and when they’re wet, walking on them in rubber soles is perilous. I’m just thankful I was holding the handrail, otherwise I would have tumbled all the way down to Indianola going ass over teakettle the whole way.
Here are the real Exorcist steps. (If the allusion is sailing over your head, see the DVD of the movie.)
I climbed up these once in 1981, the first time I was ever in D.C. on my own. I had just turned 18, and I celebrated by hitchhiking to Washington, drank my first legal beer at Clyde’s, and walked up these steps. I understand the Georgetown track and crew teams run sprints up and down these!