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    About To Fight On Paper View

    | UK | Criminal/Illegal, Wild & Unruly

    (I’m a university student who lives at home, and delivers papers to earn extra cash. I’m delivering them close to a school, which has just finished for the day. A group of boys wander over.)

    Boy: “I want a paper.”

    Me: “These aren’t for you.”

    Boy: “I live there.”

    (He points to the house behind me, which I’ve just delivered to.)

    Me: “Prove it, then. Take out your key, and open the door.”

    Boy: “I don’t have to do that! I’m going out with my mates. I’m not going in yet.”

    Me: “So you want to carry a newspaper around with you?”

    Boy: “I just want a newspaper. I live there!”

    Me: “No, you don’t. I know the people who live there, and they don’t have a son. Besides, I’ve just put a paper in there.”

    Boy: “Just give me a f****** newspaper!”

    (He goes to take one out himself. I sit myself on the paper trolley to prevent him. He tries to pull me off, and I end up pushing him away.)

    Boy: “I can do you for assault for that!”

    Me: “Call the police; it’ll save me the trouble. You tried to steal from me; you’ve probably left a nasty mark on my arm, and all this can be seen as harassment. Let’s be honest; who are the police going to believe? Me, a university student with a job, or you, a kid who can’t even pull his own trousers up?”

    Boy: “F*** you!”

    (His mates are starting to wander over. I realize things could turn nasty, so I take a chance.)

    Me: “Looks like I don’t have to call them; here’s the police now.”

    (I must have good karma, because sure enough, a police car starts driving down the road. The boys scatter. When the car reaches me, it stops and the window lowers.)

    Officer: “Were they bothering you?”

    Me: “Yes, but I sent them running.”

    Officer: “Really? What did you tell them?”

    Me: “That I knew Kung Fu.”

    Daylight Save Me From This Stupidity

    | NC, USA | Crazy Requests

    (We have a certain time by which all paper carriers should be finished. On weekdays, it’s 6:30 am.)

    Customer: “I need to make a complaint about my carrier! She’s late every morning now!”

    Me: “I do apologize. Is she delivering after 6:30 in the morning?”

    Customer: “Well, no. But ever since daylight savings, it’s light outside when I get may paper!”

    Me: “But she isn’t delivering after 6:30?”

    Customer: “No, but it’s light outside!”

    Me: “But the paper isn’t being delivered later in the morning?”

    Customer: “It’s at the same time it always is; it’s just too d*** bright!”

    Me: “…well, I’m very sorry to hear that, sir.”

    Time To Sign Up For Delivery By Delorean

    | USA | Extra Stupid, Time, Top

    (I’m answering the main line at a busy newspaper on a Saturday.)

    Me: “[Newspaper], this is [name].”

    Caller: “Yeah, it’s dark out.”

    Me: “…Okay?”

    Caller: “Yeah, it’s… what time is it?”

    Me: “It’s 10:12 p.m., sir.”

    Caller: “Yeah, it’s 10:12 p.m. and I still haven’t gotten my Sunday paper.”

    Me: “Sir, it’s 10:12 p.m. on Saturday. We’re still making the Sunday paper.”

    Caller: “But I haven’t gotten my Sunday paper!”

    Me: “Yes, sir, I understand. That’s because it’s Saturday. Your Sunday paper will be delivered as usual in the morning.”

    Caller: “But it hasn’t arrived yet!”

    Me: “It’s still Saturday night. The Sunday edition will arrive Sunday morning.”

    Caller: “I haven’t gotten… oh, wait. It’s Saturday?”

    Me: “Yes, sir.”

    Caller: “Oh. Well, then… I’ve been working nights. I’m very confused about things now. I just knew it was dark.”

    Me: “Not a problem, sir.”

    Caller: “This never happened.”

    Me: “Deal.”

    Taxing Faxing, Part 2

    | San Luis Obispo, CA, USA |

    Me: “We’ll need to put this on a credit card.”

    Caller: “I don’t have a credit card.”

    Me: “You can pay by check, if you’d like.”

    Caller: “Can I fax you a check? I really need this to start right away.”

    Me: “We can’t accept a faxed check, sorry.”

    Caller: “Well, can I fax you cash then?”

    Taxing Faxing

    One Foot In The Grave, One Hand On The Printing Press

    | Corpus Christi, TX, USA |

    Me: *on the phone* “**** Newspaper, can I help you?”

    Caller: “Hi, is this the obituaries?”

    Me: “Yes ma’am, it is.”

    Caller: “I need to place one.”

    Me: “OK ma’am. You can send that to me via fax or email.”

    Caller: “What do they typically say?”

    Me: “They vary, but some good information is where the individual was born, when they passed away–”

    Caller: “Oh, he’s not dead yet.”

    Me: “I–I’m sorry?”

    Caller: “He’s very sick, though. Should be any day.”

    Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but we can’t run an obituary until the individual has died.”

    Caller: *sighs heavily* “Well that’s VERY inconvenient.” *hangs up*

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