
I’m pissed off today.
That’s not really a surprising state of mind for a messenger to be in. There are a lot of reasons to get angry, frustrated, and stressed out. This is a tough job, a really tough job.
I woke up feeling like I was about to put another day in at a hard labor camp. Something about the dead of winter that drains your resolve and makes work especially grueling. Spinning heat and energy off into a cold nothingness, like a drained battery connected to a light bulb, frozen in a block of ice. The winter is wearing on me and maybe I am being oversensitive but…
I was holding three runs. One was going up north. One was in the middle of the loop. And one was two buildings down from me. I could have spit on the building. Which one do I do first? Hmmm. Maybe the run that was right next to me.
Instead I was told to go up north, and work backwards to the building I was pretty much in the lobby of already.
This pissed me off, but I knew the reason why my dispatcher did it.
You see, my dispatcher isn’t to blame here. If the northeastern run was late, he was going to hear all hell about it from the client.
Fair enough. Sometimes that happens, and I’m fine with it. But here’s the kicker. The person who the package was from, and the person the package was going to, weren’t going to be the ones calling and complaining.
Instead, the client that was going to be calling and complaining is a middleman that uses our services to make deliveries for clients they have in Chicago.
They don’t do any work themselves. They find customers and then farm the work out to us.
They are very cheap and they are quick to complain brutally about the slightest lapse of time.
I don’t even think they operate out of Chicago.
So here I am, hauling my ass up Michigan, going across town, doubling the amount of work I have to do, making money for people that don’t do a damn thing.
And I was thinking, what a bunch of fucking parasites.
I’m the one doing the work.
I’m the one freezing my ass off.
I’m the one producing labor.
It’s like I went out and picked an apple, and I have to give a bite to this guy, and then this guy, and then this guy and then this guy.
They’re getting fatter and fatter, and by the time I get my bite all I get is the nibbled core they throw to me.
Thanks for nothing.
So I guess that’s why I was pissed.