Do you know how hard it is to find a copy of The New York Times in the city in Iowa that I reside?
Last night, I decided that I needed to buy a copy of the Waterloo Courier, because of something that you’ll read about shortly, and a copy of the Sunday New York Times. Because I love The New York Times, or, as I joked to my mother, I needed to compensate for buying a Courier.
So, I hopped into my car, which has the nickname of David Tennant, and I headed towards the gas station nearest my house.
Well, this gas station happens to lie near a college, and there are several cars that not only park, but also drive on this street. This meant that the street was not well plowed (remember, I live in Iowa).
I walk into this gas station and looked around for the newspapers. I found them, but there was no Courier or New York Times in sight.
As I found out from the clerk, the gas station stopped selling my favourite paper two months ago (two months ago, I purchased a copy of The New York Times in Rockford, IL), and that they were out of Courier’s for the day.
I then get back into my car and drive to the gas station that is the closest to the one that I first went to.
At this point, I think that David, my family’s car, is starting to hate me. I took the major roads in my city because reason says that the major roads will be better plowed than the roads in neighborhoods. However, reason says that several things shouldn’t be happening, but they are.
I arrive at this gas station while listening to a program about food on NPR. I walk in and there is not only several copies of today’s New York Times, but also some copies of yesterday’s New York Times. And not only was The New York Times there, but there was also several copies of today’s Courier, some still in unopened bundles.
I then purchased the papers and drove home, where my sister and I discovered that the Courier can place announcements of seasons at theatres in a logical place.