Navigating the newspaper gauntlet

GOOD MORNING, said the man, smiling broadly as he made eye contact with me. He was holding a stack of Examiner newspapers. As he offered me a copy of his newspaper, he thrust it right into my path and I had to juke to dodge it.

“No thanks, I have the Post,” I smiled back as I continued walking towards the station in my frenzied, not-now-I’m-so-late pace.

“Examiner’s better!” he yelled after me as I entered the tunnel. I turned around and he was looking right at me, still smiling.

“I don’t think so,” I replied, meeting his stare and flashing that smile I reserve only for people who are starting to annoy me.

Such is the gauntlet Metro commuters are forced to run at my station each morning. “Helpful” Paper People all but block the entrance to the station, thrusting unsolicited newspapers into the already-full hands of those who are simply attempting to catch a train. On any given morning, there are at least two people, sometimes three or four, whose sole job appears to be to leave the station empty-handed, having provided reading material for harried commuters.

The Examiner competes directly with the Express, which is a boiled-down version of the Washington Post, cut and culled to suit the commuter’s limited attention span. It’s also printed in a tabloid format, half the size of the regular newspaper, and stapled, which means you can read it without violating your seatmate’s personal space, or hold it with one hand if you stand.

One could see this as genius on the part of the newspapers. Plenty of groggy, mute commuters find it easier to just accept the paper and keep on walking.  It’s a captive audience who would rather read something – anything – than sit and stare at their fellow train passengers or pick their cuticles or drool while they snore.

On the other hand, as a card-carrying adult, I am fully capable of supplying myself with enough reading material and/or electronic diversions to last me until my stop in the city. What makes them think I need whatever they’re handing out? Why can’t they just leave stacks of the papers in a box right at the entrance and allow those who desire a copy to pick up their own?

The real problem comes when a bus drops off and a large crowd attempts to funnel through the tunnel at once. The people who actually do want a newspaper gravitate towards the lady who hands them out, causing a bit of a cluster for the rest of us who just want to keep on walking trainward.

Usually I ignore the paper people, but this morning’s exchange was different. I’ve never been challenged by one of these folks. Why did he seek to engage me in a back-and-forth of my-paper-is-better-than-yours? Why should he care what I’m reading?

I’m a loyal Washington Post reader. Two years ago, when we made our ill-fated move to Central Pennsylvania – four whole hours from the White House – the first thing we did was scour the town to see if we could buy The Post. It was a college town, after all, yet even the downtown so-called “News Stand” didn’t carry it. We found it at a gas station / market 13 miles away and happily made that drive each Sunday to pay five bucks for our beloved printed connection to our old life.

Although there is talk of the imminent death of the print media, the fact remains that you can’t read the news on the internet in a subway tunnel. You need hard copy material. They know this. And so they persist in the handing out of unrequested newspapers.

Paper People, here’s the thing: NO THANKS.  I’m sure you get paid for each paper you distribute, but I don’t need you to tuck one into my hands. If I want to read it, I’ll grab it out of the box myself. And even if I don’t take yours, there’s a really good chance that someone who didn’t have the energy to say no has left a copy on the seat of the train, and if so? I’ll just read theirs.  Because, y’know, it’s cool to recycle.

M’kay? Have a good day!