You’re a ten-year-old girl who delivers newspapers, and that has nothing to do with the fact that you’re a lesbian.
“At least I think I’m a lesbian,” you tell your customers when they ask. “I’m only ten. But it’s looking like that’s the way I’m headed.”
Still, you didn’t take the job as some kind of political statement. Yes, delivering papers is traditionally a boy’s job. But there’s no reason for it to be. All you need is a stolen supermarket shopping cart and a throwing arm.
“I just like getting the word out to people,” you say. “I like knowing that my neighborhood gets their morning news directly from my fingertips. It makes me feel important.”
But your customers won’t let up. It’s gotten so that they won’t even pay you on collections day until you’ve convinced them that you didn’t take the job just because you know you’re going to be a lesbian when you grow up.
“Who I decide to kiss when I want to start kissing folks has no bearing on what I do to make some extra scratch so I can buy my GI Joes,” you like to tell them. That always seems to shut them up.
Happy Papergirl Day!
