that cute paper boy

I can see it all now--It was four o'clock in the afternoon and Alice, Rose and I were sitting on my front porch hashing and rehashing what had happened at school earlier in the day. That's when we saw him. Mike Johnson. He was the cutest fifteen-year-old paper boy ever. At least that's what I thought when I was 13. He delivered The Detroit Tribune to our neighborhood every afternoon and Rose, Alice and I made sure he noticed us most of those afternoons. OK, maybe I was the instigator, but he really was cute and I just knew if I could get him to notice me, he'd recognize what a great catch I was and then he'd like me, too.

Mike Johnson was a tall, lanky dark haired all-American boy wearing cut off jean shorts, madras shirt and funky fishing hat pulled down over his eyes walking down our street. He carried a canvas bag on his shoulder filled with newspapers that he'd roll up just before throwing them at his subscriber's porches. When he got to our porch he didn't throw it and take a chance on hitting us. He politely walked up the sidewalk, smiled and handed it to me. He was cute, polite and friendly. It was official. I was in serious "like." I was smitten.

It was after that first encounter that the plotting and planning began. All our parents got the Tribune so we made sure we were sitting on one of our porches everyday about four so we could do the "get up and take the newspaper from the cute boy" maneuver. Alice and Rose were kinda shy, and I wasn't, so I got to take it from him no matter on whose porch we were sitting. After a couple of days, we figured out that if we went to Alice's house first and got the paper from him, while he was at the end of her street, we could make our way to my house and take it from him there, then we could beat him down the street and also accept it from him at Rose's house. Three interactions in one afternoon. Brilliant!

But, after a while, it just wasn't enough. Mike was diligent about his work so even when we asked him a question to try to prolong his visit with us, he'd answer politely and keep walking. We had to have more time with him. Got it! We'd start paying him--OK-I'd start paying him-- at the end of the week when he had to collect the money for the papers he'd delivered. And that's what we did. Same order of business. Pay him at Alice's house, pay him at my house, and pay him at Rose's house. On a really sneaky week, we go to Rita's house and even pay him there. He must have thought we were very silly little girls. Either that or he thought we were insane. Either way, all our plotting and planning never got us, er..me, anywhere with Mike Johnson. Nope. Nunca. Nada. Nothing. He was just the same nice, polite, friendly paper boy each and every time he saw us. Rats!

The next school year we went to Hazel Park High School. Mike was a junior, we were freshmen, and he'd given up his paper route for football and sports. We still got to see him, but he never acknowledged if he recognized us or not. It would have been kind of embarrassing so I'm glad he didn't.

Once, in everyday conversation, I told my friend, the beautiful Connie Hughes about him, you know, telling her that he'd been our paperboy for a while and how cute I thought he was, etc. It wasn't two weeks later, she made sure she let me know she had gone on a date with him. Now, I can't say for sure that she did it just because she could, but it still seems a little fishy to me. Reminds me of that Dolly Parton song, "Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Joleeeen. Please don't take him just because you can."

I was diligent in pursuit but the boy liking thing never worked too well for Jr High Suzanne, or, even High School Suzanne. Let's say it never worked for me when I tried to make it work. I had more success with boys when I ignored them and let them find me. Go figure.