Every second Thursday is payday at the Fort Frances Times. But for those who help deliver papers, it’s more than just payday. It’s freezie day! I know that may not sound quite as appealing as we go into fall, but in summer, you work up a sweat, and freezies are a great cure.
If you don’t already know, I’m a reporter here. But I’m also a carrier. In summers, when other regular delivery people go on vacation, the team is sometimes in need of extra help. The Times staff will usually step up and help, especially on Thursdays when all of Fort Frances gets a copy of the Bulletin.
But as much as I enjoy my bi-weekly freezies, I think it’s time for someone else to have them.
The Times has been in need of carriers for awhile, but now as you folks return from vacationing, we’d like to invite you to join our team of delivery people.
Parents reading this — this is a great way for your child to learn responsibility, gain work experience, and get exercise all at once. The schedule is not demanding, and the workload is a bunch of newspapers in a pouch.
Seniors reading this — you’d like to get out of the house more? You’d like to chat with friendly community members as they get to know you as their carrier? Trust me when I say this job is a walk in the park for you, or rather, a walk down the street.
Anyone else reading this — if you have a bit of spare time on weekday afternoons, and would like some extra exercise and money, then this is the gig for you.
Call the office here at 274-5373 to find out more info. But first, you should read some memories I have from delivering.
Once when I was out, a war-like alarm began blaring. I’m a summer student from Winnipeg, and if this was a common Fort Frances thing, I was certainly not used to it.
I looked around, and noticed a lady watering her lawn, unfazed by the siren. I kept walking, still uneasy, wondering when I should run for the nearest bomb shelter, or maybe grab a noxious gas mask.
I turned the corner and saw some folks hugging in a parking lot across the highway. I wondered if they were greeting each other after a long time apart, or if they were saying their final goodbyes.
Eventually the alarm came to an end, and thankfully the world didn’t follow suit. To this day, I still don’t know the siren’s purpose or origin.
Another distinct memory I have was from a day in July, one that I am famous for in the office. When I left, the sky was a little cloudy, but nothing to deter me.
As I began my route, the sky was just drizzling ever so slightly — almost like nothing at all. But I turned a corner, and so did the weather.
It poured.
But by this time, I was about halfway done. I just decided to finish delivering the last few papers, as my van was just as far whether I turned back or completed the loop. I was a soaked sponge by the end of it.
I got back to the office, and the water poured off my face like I was a shower head. I turned to our receptionist Rachel and said “I think it’s starting to drizzle.” She lost it.
That was the story of the day, and it’s now a running joke around here. Even if it’s sunny, when I’m delivering, it’s bound to rain. But the experience wasn’t all bad — I got a fresh pair of Tim Hortons socks from Lincoln in case I ever get drenched again and need dry clothes.
Similar to the last story, one time I went out on foot to a route near the Times office. There was rain in the forecast, but the sun was shining, so I went to get it done as soon as possible.
But, me being a rain magnet, precipitation came quick. It was heavy again. This time, there was hail too. Thankfully, I was on Scott Street, and was able to take cover under a canopy. I called the office for a rescue mission, and another one of our reporters, Allan, saved me.
Those are my stories from just a few months on the job. I can’t promise you’ll get free socks, but I know it’ll be a good experience and you’ll have many stories to tell.
