Someone is stealing my newspaper

I think someone is stealing my newspaper.

I can’t be sure. The New York Times delivery department might be lying to me when I call them every morning to yell at them for not delivering my paper. They keep telling me they’re delivering it, so every morning I schlep downstairs to get the paper, and no paper. So then I call and yell at them. And they tell me they’re delivering it, and the vicious cycle starts again.

In the most recent call, I got the distinct impression that the nice woman from Omaha or Bengladesh or wherever was insinuating that I was being a little unreasonable. Something about the “oh, I see you’ve been calling multiple times every day” comment that she made. I then pointed out to her that maybe it wasn’t the best idea for the Times to get me too used to reading the online version for free, what with the death of newspapers and all.

So I’m not sure what’s happening. Either the New York Times is lying to me — and who can imagine such a thing after, you know, Jayson Blair and Judith Warner– or one of my new neighbors is stealing my paper.

Which is funny, because for 15 years the Times delivered its paper to my front door in big bad Manhattan, leaving it right on the front stoop out there on the street. And in 15 years, I didn’t get the paper maybe 5 times. Even though all someone had to do to steal it was walk up about 6 stairs, grab it, and then saunter off. So now I’ve lived in the suburbs for about a week, and my paper has disappeared every day.

My conclusion: people in the suburbs are crooks.

Alternate conclusion: the people in my building are excited about the new “free paper” they find every day in the lobby, and don’t realize its mine.

Alternate conclusion #2: Jayson Blair has been moved to the home delivery department.

I’ll keep you updated.