30 March 2008

Paper-girl Turf Wars

Just a few miles from my house, there is a 4-way intersection which has become taken over by grown women (and one man, but he's rather unimportant) selling newspapers on the medians.

For months, there was just this one lady. I don't know her name, I think it might be Valerie (I've seen something to that effect written on her safety vest) and I've never bought a paper from her but we'll call her Paperlady A. She's tall and skinny with short, dull brown hair and a very, very red face. Sometimes I wonder if she thinks to put on sunscreen before she steps out onto that median to sell papers for the next 6 hours (yes, 6). I wonder all kinds of other things about her as I drive by almost every day. Does she have a home? Is she single? Does she have kids? Is standing in the Tucson sun for hours a day worth it? Does she make any money? What does she list as her occupation? Newspaper girl/woman? Where does she eat lunch? Does she step inside a gas station on either side of the median and grab a hot dog and an extra-large icee?

But in the last few months, a few other women have appeared in that same intersection, also selling newspapers.

Paperlady B appears to be fairly short, although also very skinny and has an under-bite which causes the bottom part of her jaw to jut out. I wonder, for some reason, if she has false teeth, and if she's wearing them.

The lenses on her sunglasses reflect the sun in such a way that makes her sunglasses seem large. I always think of a fly with a thousand eyes scanning the busy intersection when I see her. I don't know why. I just do.

She always wears a bandana of some sort, although she has ratty hair that hangs out the back. I can't tell if they're dreds in the making, or really just ratty. And usually Paperlady B wears long, flowy, print skirts that make me think of hippies and gypsies. The other day she wore a skirt with blue jeans underneath. It seemed a little too warm to me for layers, but that's just me. She also has a dog. It sits under an umbrella that's usually perched a few feet away from her as she walks up and down the corner, hoping for someone to roll down their window and wave a dollar bill around. She has a large blue thermos, too. But again I wonder all the same things about her as I do about Paperlady A, and more. What's the dog's name? Is it a boy or a girl? Does she drug it, as it is never on a leash and yet I've hardly ever seen it move? How did she get there? Does she have a car? Where does she park it? At the gas station across the street? Do the gas station people know? Do they care?

So then there were two- Paperlady A and Paperlady B. I'm assuming they sell different papers, as there are a couple local papers here in Tucson. I've never seen them talk to each other. Paperlady A stays on her median, and Paperlady B stays in her spot caddy-corner from Paperlady A's median.

Then a month or so ago, another lady (we'll call her Paperlady C) showed up on Paperlady A's median. Paperlady C has a little more girth than Paperlady A and B. She wears a khaki (I think) ball cap, with her light brown hair hanging out the back in a pony tail. She dresses a little more sportier than the other two. Jean shorts and a plain t-shirt underneath her lime-green safety vest. She, too, keeps a water cooler nearby. I wonder if she has kids, too. If they're all grown up and out of the house and she needed a hobby so she took up selling papers in a busy intersection to ward off Empty Nest Syndrome. I imagine her going to her grand-children's soccer games, taking pictures that will never see the light of day on her point and shoot camera and cheering until her throat becomes hoarse.

Again, I can't explain why this is my vision of her life when she's not in that intersection. It just is.

Oddly, the first time I saw Paperlady C on Paperlady A's median, I wondered if Paperlady A knew that someone else was on her turf. I envisioned the two of them gently placing their stack of papers down and start tearing at each other's safety vests and hair, trying to punch each other in the nose. Like a grown up version of King of the Mountain. Except on a brick-lined median in the middle of the desert instead.

The turf war I like to imagine in my head never happens though. That disappoints me a little.

However, not long after Paperlady C tried to depose Paperlady A from her median, I finally saw the two of them standing together. I watched them speak with each other, praying the light would stay red long enough to see my flights of fancy come true. There were bold gestures on both parts, and before the light turned Paperlady A did in fact end up walking to the median across the street. She didn't look happy. It's possible I imagined that, though, because it's more fun to think the seeds of conflict are growing as opposed to them reaching a reasonable compromise.

Compromise is boring.

I do suspect, though, that they worked out some sort of time-share because I've noticed lately that one of them will be on the contested median in the morning, and then the other one is there in the evening.

I've been chronicling these events to dh as I've watched (and imagined) them unfold over the last few months. When I mentioned my time-share theory the other day he laughed. It amuses him that I've gotten so wrapped up in this whole thing when, really, I don't have a clue as to what is really happening. Maybe they were comparing notes or something that day I saw Paper ladies A and C talking. Maybe Paperlady A was complaining about her husband/live-in boyfriend. Or maybe even her girlfriend. I have no idea.

"I don't know what is really going on out there," dh said to me, "but I don't think I want to know, at this point. I like your version so much better!"

And you know what? I like my version better, too.

I can't explain why I'm so intrigued with the homeless/not homeless Paper ladies occupying practically every median in that intersection. I think that it's just that I see them every day as I'm driving the girls and myself to one errand or activity or another. Also, I tend to have a rich "inner life" (i.e. Imagination). Or so I'm told.

But this "rich inner life" springs to action while I'm driving, especially.

Everything and nothing runs through my mind when I'm behind the wheel more than any other time of the day.

Probably because I can't safely knit and drive at the same time.

In any case, I'm going to continue keeping a watchful eye on Paper ladies A and C. Maybe one day I'll see the knock-down-drag-out fight I've been waiting for. Because, really, what's more amusing than two (homeless???) women coming to blows over who gets the median so they can sell their papers?!!!

Nothing, as far as I'm concerned!

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