The Summer of ’72. I was 16. Although I was living at home for free with no expenses whatsoever I felt it was time to contribute to society and earn some money. I had friends who were able to buy their own cars and I was a little jealous of that. My pal Michael Jackson-yes I went to school with Michael Jackson-told me about an opening at the Gas Company. They were looking for a gas bill deliverer. Michael was doing it and someone had quit. It wasn’t an oil-patch paying kind of job but I would get $5 per small bundle and $7.50 for what the Gas Company deemed as one of the big bundles. I’d be doing my deliveries as per when they would call which was about twice a week. So I called, dropped my Michael Jackson name and got the job. (In case you haven’t figured it out, this Michael Jackson wasn’t the King of Pop although he did have quite a tan.)
My contact was a great guy named Dan Dietzen. The one thing he said to me as I was set to depart on my first set of deliveries was, “If there was an issue like a big dog in the yard, just bring the bill back and it’ll be delivered another way.”
And so began my summer of trauma.
I love dogs. But when you meet them in a situation where they think you’re going to attack them or their master and they’re in protection mode it’s a different story. They scare the hell out of me. I don’t care if it’s a Chihuahua or a Doberman, I don’t like the confrontation.
The first trauma I encountered is putting the bill into one of those mail slots that are right in the door. It’s a simple matter of opening the slot and slipping the bill through. On my first day, that was the case on numerous times with no incident. And then…..I’m walking along, enjoying the silence. I walk up to the appropriate house and notice there’s a slot in the door. I open the slot, and just as I’m putting the bill in…”Yi Yi Yi!!!!” It’s some kind of Pekinese terrier making it known that he didn’t appreciate what I just had done. I felt like I was in that Bugs Bunny cartoon where the dog sneaks up behind Foghorn Leghorn, barks at him and sends him to the sky. It’s not that the dog bit me or anything, it’s just the sudden shock of a loud piercing yap that gets your adrenaline pumping. Traditionally my hands would shake for a minimum of 10 more houses after that.
You get used to that after a while. It’s part of the job. You deal with it.
But then came the one day I will never forget.
There was a picket fence. There was a pathway to a set of stairs. The stairs were situated on an angle to the pathway so you had to turn to get up the stairs. You couldn’t actually see the top of the stairs until you made that turn.
It was a fine summer day. I was making good time. This was a $7.50 bundle and I was closing in on finishing. I came to the picket fence. I opened the gate and proceeded to walk down the path. I heard the gate click shut behind me. There were about 20 steps to the bottom of the stairs. There were about 5 stairs that I would need to climb to get to the mailbox. I made it to the 20 steps. Just as I got to the bottom of the steps unbeknownst to me I awakened a huge German Sheppard that was taking his morning nap at the top of the stairs. He looked up at me and he was not happy. BOW WOW WOW!!!! He jumped to his feet. I turned around and ran as fast as I could down the 20-foot pathway.
Oh no!!
The gate had been latched shut!!!
That old adrenaline had kicked in big time. I made it to the gate and I placed my hand on one of the picket posts and with one jump that would impress Kaitlyn Jenner in a decathlon event I was able to clear that fence by two feet. I think even the dog was impressed by how fast I got out of that yard.
I did not deliver that bill that day.
I may have peed a little.
I did not deliver gas bills for very long after that.
Mark Boogieman 