Being an L.A. Times subscriber for pretty much all of my adult life (except when I bitterly cancelled for almost a year in protest when they killed the Tuesday Outdoors section in 2005), I can remember from back in the day the glacial speed within which a missing paper was re-delivered. Sometimes it took hours.
Shlepping outside this morning to find today’s edition had either been fucking stolen or the delivery person had fucking skipped our house, I shlepped back inside grumbling and went for an online stroll through the subscriber services section of the Times website. Filling out the delivery problem form, I clicked the box indicating I wanted a replacement copy, and noted the time: 8:31 a.m.
In a ridiculously brief amount of time there came a familiar thwap on the front stairs and I looked at the clock. No way! Could it be? Peering out the window sure enough I found its thrower hustling back to his double parked car and a fresh paper still hot from the oven awaiting me on the top step. How ridiculous the interim interval? Twelve minutes. Very nice.