Monday
Today was my first day of work and I now know why my boss told me to be careful. I swear it was like a riot out there. I got hit by a motorcycle and two cars, none of which stopped to see if I was okay. Luckily I had my helmet on but as I was gathering myself up after the first car hit a young pup came out to investigate. He seemed innocent enough but the second I got back onto my bike the little hellhound took off like a thunderbolt and chased after me barking and nipping at my pant-legs. The mutt would’ve knocked me over if I hadn’t tossed a newspaper at it. When I got back to HQ my boss informed me that three customers had cancelled their subscriptions on account of me having missed their houses. Give me a break! A malicious and ill-tempered terrier was attacking me! And how could those people be so picky anyway? I miss their houses once and suddenly they cancel? Oh well, at least I’m getting paid.

Tuesday
When I first took this job I thought it would be a cakewalk. My route is only two blocks and there’s a skate park right by it that has an obstacle course for bikers (and the same three cheering fans every day). But now I’m starting to understand why my boss had such a hard time filling this position. Something weird is always going on in that neighborhood and I'm certain that every last resident there has a chip on his or her shoulder. I don’t know why, but today this old lady armed with a butcher knife ran out of her house yelling and screaming and stabbing the air and chased me about five houses down until she finally gave up. All the while I had to make my deliveries and dodge a spare tire rolling down the pavement, an idiotic skateboarder that didn’t seem to be aware that other people use the sidewalk besides him, and a renegade remote-control lawnmower. Honestly, who mows their lawn at 5:30 in the morning? These people must have been in some type of psychiatric asylum before they all bought houses on the same block (some of them even bury there dead in their front yard). Anyway, I tried to outbike the old lady but the bitch is surprisingly fast for one of her age and I am still baffled as to what exactly I had done to deserve such treatment. I delivered her paper and gave her a friendly good morning but for some reason she found it necessary to attack me. Perhaps I simply looked at her wrong. I don’t know. My only solace were my three fans at the end of the obstacle course. I tell you, those kids’ loyalty makes my ridiculous job much easier to bear.

Wednesday
I’m convinced that my customers care not for reading the newspapers I so kindly provide to them and are instead only concerned with whether or not they are delivered at all. Indeed, it’s unlikely that a single one of them actually bothers to open up and read the news at all and it’s doubtful that some of my customers can actually read to begin with. They seem to base their entire existence on whether or not they receive their precious papers. Case in point: today I received a list of new subscribers and was surprised to see that two of the houses that cancelled their subscriptions Monday were present on the list! Furthermore, I have also found that as long as I throw one newspaper precisely on their doorsteps I can then toss a few papers threw their windows and into their cars with no complaints.

Thursday
Today, I ran into this kid lying in the middle of the sidewalk thrusting his legs into the air repeatedly. I informed him that the sidewalk is not a place to be struggling to dress himself as it is primarily used to walk (hence the name) or in my case ride. I also advised him to seek a larger pair of pants but he assured me that pulling himself into clothing was not what he was doing but rather he was trying to learn how to breakdance. I commented on the futility of his efforts as he has neither the proper athletic build nor the cranial capacity to accomplish such an undertaking but my words fell upon deaf ears. The boy was stubborn and continued his ritual long after I had passed.

Friday
I got caught in a tornado today. It was quite surprising to see such a small twister in the middle of a suburban driveway but I am fast learning to expect just about anything from this hellish neighborhood. Even more surprising was the fact that this tornado seemed to be aiming for me specifically. Luckily, I was unhurt and continued my route without any further disturbances.

Today I also discovered that all the headlines in my newspaper are about no one but myself, leading me to believe that the reason why these people are so picky is because their newspapers are custom-made specifically for their neighborhood. I read headlines such as, “Hero Paperboy Stops Thief!” (I merely ran into him) and “Amazing Paperboy Delivers!” If these people think I’m so amazing then why on earth do they treat me so shamefully?

Saturday
Just when I thought things couldn’t get worse then yesterday’s tornado, who do I run into? None other than the notorious grim reaper! Apparently, I ran over the thing’s foot making him utter a painfully loud scream followed by some angry growling. He then pointed his bony finger shouting “You!” Fortunately, I was able to subdue him by throwing a newspaper into his hood which made him step back screaming, “Yarg! Papercuts!” leaving the question open as to just how damaging paper can be to one who has no skin.

Sunday
Today was my worst day yet. It seems that every mishap that occurred in the days preceding all gathered to create one massive day of torment. That old lady ran after me again, as did what appeared to be her identical twin sister. I nearly crashed into a worker removing concrete with a jackhammer while trying desperately to avoid that moronic breakdancing boy and that inconsiderate sidewalk-hogging skateboarder. The grim reaper was apparently out for revenge but he was foiled by another one of those miniature tornadoes. I was attacked by every dog on the block (all the same breed, I might add) and that lawnmower was out and about, as well. Something tells me it has a demon, or something.

So when I finally returned to HQ I informed my boss that the working conditions were too intense and either he relocate me to a less violent neighborhood route or I quit. I also advised him to hire a new paperboy to take my place, one that perhaps has had combat training, but he said I needn’t do either as I already lived longer than any other paperboy working that neighborhood and that I could retire. Before I could question him as to why he had neglected to inform me of the fatalities before I took the job he said I would receive a hefty retirement bonus. I agreed and now I am looking forward to tomorrow’s headline, which will read, “Paperboy Retires In Glory!”