Remember how I mentioned that I finally got a job?

Well that wasn’t a lie.  I did get a job.  Finally.  Took three years to get it.

What is this job you might ask?

Delivering a weekly newspaper to various gas stations (and a few restaurants, but mainly gas stations) in southwest Georgia.

Oddly enough my first job ever was a weekly newspaper.  I can only remember two things from that:  there was an apartment complex that had a very distinctive and odd smell and the day my best friend’s little sister tried on the newspaper carrying thing (what would you call it?) and choked on a piece of ice at the same time.

I could probably find my way to that apartment complex in Papillion, Nebraska just using my nose.

This paper route is a thousand times more entertaining than a smelly apartment complex.

For example:

1. I have met a woman with a shrunken head.  No, really- her head was about 4 times too small for her body.  It was quite freaky.  She kept asking me if I was excited for school to start back up.  When I finally convinced her that I wasn’t in high school she then asked me what my college major was.  Finally I just had to tell her I was majoring in paper route delivery systems and hightail it out of there.  God knows I’d probably be sitting there if I hadn’t.

2. There are at least two dogs in south Georgia that like to ride stationary bikes.  My first day with the route took forever.  I had a general idea where most of the stops were but there were a few that sent me on a wild goose chase.  One of them sent me down a street that had not one but two houses with dog pens.  We aren’t talking large, palatial pens by any means- just your standard 6×6 (or whatever the standard is) dog pen.  And in those two dog pens was a stationary bike.  Trust me; I drove by each of those houses numerous times to make sure I was seeing it correctly.  So now you can rest easy tonight knowing that at least two dogs in south Georgia are getting their recommended exercise time in.

3. Marriage proposal.  I shit you not.  In the parking lot of one of my gas stations a drunk guy who I let borrow my pen inside (I went to wipe the spit off of it, since it had been in my mouth, and he goes “no that’s all right, perhaps a bit of sugar will bring me some good luck”), asked me to marry him.  We had an audience of about 5 people who clapped for our impending nuptials.  I’ll let you know where we are registered.

4. Fights like you would not believe.  I don’t know what it is about gas stations but let me tell you- I have never in my life seen the type of domestic altercations than I have in the six weeks since starting this job.  On numerous occasions the police have had to get involved.  It’s been insane.

5. I’ve learned that people will buy beer and lotto tickets at all times of the day.  And in copious amounts.  There are even people who do nothing but sit in gas stations and play keno seemingly all day.  It’s really sad actually.

6. I’ve learned that you can build an entire porn collection just from gas stations alone.  And they come in two ‘flavors’- black and white, and two ummm, don’t know how to say it but front or back.  Klassy.

7. I was unaware that you could go into a gas station and buy a cigarette.  Not a pack, not a carton, but one cigarette.  Same goes for cigarillos.  Never knew.

8. Billie Dee Williams is hawking Colt 45.  Oh Lando how has your career reached this lever?

And the number one thing I’ve learned so far-

7. Stereotypes are stereotypes for a reason.  The one about gas station being owned by Indians?  Totally true.  At least here in south Georgia.  A good 98% of the places I go to are owned/run by Indians.  Including one who is about the friendliest guy I’ve ever come across in my entire life.  One time I went in his shop with an Alabama shirt on.  It had Big Al on it and next thing I know he’s telling me all about how in India elephants are everywhere.  Five minutes later I was finally able to gradually work my way to the door and get out of there.  And I haven’t worn the elephant shirt since.