When people ask me my feelings towards my job my answer is that there are worse jobs out there. I mean that in a positive way too. Many people would kill for my job and some would kill themselves if they had to come down to my level. The real sad thing is that the job that I have now was pretty much the ideal job that I wished for when I was a young adult. It’s sad because those are some really low expectations. Be careful for what you wish for. I guess sometimes you are compelled to only shoot so high when you are way down below.
My job is pretty easy. I drive around the same area every day and deliver stuff to mainly residential areas. There are challenges just like any other job. One of my challenges is to avoid stepping on dog shit. It’s everywhere and it’s hardly ever the dried up crusty kind. Almost always it’s fresh enough to get stuck in deep between the treads of your shoe sole. I used to average stepping on dog shit every 1.5 months. The really shitty thing is that you don’t notice until you’ve tracked it into your vehicle and smeared the dog shit all over your pedals. All of a sudden you smell something stinky and it resembles dog shit. Of course when it smells like you’ve stepped on dog shit, you almost certainly have. Now I have to waste my drinking water to clean it all up.
The culprit that lays those traps is the same lovable animal that brings me much joy when I encounter it at a customer’s home. Often it will come towards me and bury its snout in my crotch area. It’s a lovable gesture but it also makes me feel awkward as its owner is witnessing their dog being a pervert. Or am I the pervert for not pushing the dog away? You’re damned if you do and you’re damned if you don’t. I always ask the owner if I can give the dog a treat and inside I’m praying they will say yes. It’s one of the more enjoyable aspects of my job.
Most of the time people aren’t expecting you when you knock on their door. Sometimes you get to see people at their worse. No makeup, half makeup, morning erections, nothing but a towel around their waste, you name it. Once in a while I get lucky and get to see a lot of cleavage but most of the time that cleavage belongs to an old obese woman in lingerie. People with deformities or unsightly physical conditions are not uncommon. You don’t get to see these people in public because most of them probably never step out of their homes much. When you step into a home of someone who is in a wheel chair with deformed limbs, you get a new appreciation for your life. Of course, that appreciation doesn’t last very long but just experiencing that feeling will leave a permanent file in your memory bank.
Most of my deliveries are documents, items for resale purposes and items that people buy online. Shoes, clothing, nutritional supplements, jewelry, wine and electronic goods are some of the most popular. My guess is that they are packaged really well because they don’t get a lot of TLC during the whole transportation process and most packages make it home alive. It’s not uncommon to get damaged packages but the casualties are not staggering.
My favourite customers are old ladies. They are usually pretty lonely and probably happy to see me. Most of the time they are pleasant and watching them sign my machine can be comical. The whole signature thing is stupid. No one’s signature ever looks like anything so I can’t see how it would hold up if there was ever a dispute. I guess you can’t break tradition. Sometimes I just sign it for people if their hands are dirty or if I see that they just came out of the washroom after possibly taking a #2. I don’t want fecal matter on my pen and machine.
Once in a while I will get a tip. The most I have ever received was $10. If anything, $2 or less is the norm and that only happens every other week. I haven’t figured out a way yet to manipulate people into giving me a tip. The best I have come up with is to offer only partial change when they owe money. If you can give them enough change so that it’s close enough to being even then they will usually say it’s okay.
As easy and somewhat enjoyable as my job can be, having to do it 5 days a week, 8 hours a day isn’t so great. What’s worse is the thought of having to do it for the rest of my non-wrinkly and diaper free wearing life. We’ll see what happens. I’m sure there will be a Part 2 to this post somewhere down the road.