"Teenagers!" the Dad proclaimed as he opened the door, momentarily perplexed as to why I was standing there. I had walked 1.53 miles to deliver two 3-piece Chick-n-Strips and a large order of Waffle fries to Mike. I was hating every second of my life and regretting accepting a fast food order even though I should know better from reading all of Reddit's warnings against accepting fast food orders. It was a slow night though, a very slow night, my first slow night since beginning with Postmates and I was desperate.
When I got to Mike's place between 1st and 2nd ave on 65th street, after walking from 48th street and 6th avenue, the building was a peculiar labyrinth with no signs and it took me a while to find the apartment. Thankfully it was on the ground floor and there was no doorman so it didn't take much longer to find than it usually takes to wait for an elevator and get through the doorman.
I was nervous because it was such a far away delivery, I was nervous about the food being cold and getting a bad rating, even though, it's not my fault I was sent to a billion miles away on foot. I could tell I was getting reject orders, right before the Chick-Fil-A order I got an order to go to Staples for a scientific calculator. I declined because I've heard non-food orders tip terribly and I didn't want to stress about choosing something as complex as a scientific calculator. There are many types and just no.
So anyway, I finally find the apartment and knock and a Dad answers and I say "Mike?" as is my custom when arriving to a customer's door, to verify I'm giving the order to the right person. Dad looks at me confused for a sec and I immediately think, shit I must have somehow knocked on the wrong door in this confusing maze building I should have double checked, but then he realizes what's happening and calls out "Mike!" Then he says "Chick-Fil-A. Teenagers!"
Suddenly it all made sense. The fast food order to a ridiculously far away location, definitely something only a teenager would do.
So his kid comes out and Dad goes, "Well do you have a tip?" I really like this dad. This dad reminds me of how I wish my dad had been around raising me to tip couriers instead of an alcoholic. Mike goes to get a tip but he only has a dollar. Dad doesn't have cash, which I both do and don't believe, and tells Mike to hook me up with money from the change jar. I've hooked up couriers delivering to me with money from the change jar so I am unhypocritically okay with this. As Dad told Mike, "Money is money!" and I agree. Mike runs off to get me some change.
Dad asks me if I have children and I say no and he says "Don't!" This guy is straight out of a sitcom, I am in love. I wish this Dad was my Daddy if you catch my drift. His looks matched his parenting skills- Excellent. He reminded me of George Clooney in his facial hair and age. And as if I couldn't swoon over Dad anymore, he then invites me to "sit down, use the restroom," he insists on it. He even offered me "a beer or wine". In hindsight I wish I had accepted the drink, maybe I missed out on a sugar daddy opportunity. Maybe I should be looking out for potential sugar daddies on these deliveries. Anyway, I'm abstaining from drinking because I'm a recovering alcoholic, so
I decide to use the restroom because I really did have to use the restroom and I was going to at Chick-Fil-A but the restroom was in use and I didn't want to make the customer wait. It's almost like karma is real. So I use their restroom and it's clean and pretty and right across from the door which is very convenient.
I come out and Mike runs over with his change and says "sorry" and I'm all "no worries!" I am glad that this kid might turn out to be decent. Dads are important.
I go back outside and it's still slow af. I'm getting no pings for orders so I decide to head downtown. I check my emails while waiting for the R train and see one from my bank account that one of my checks wasn't cashed. I only pay one thing by check, the most important thing, rent. My landlord has a bad habit of cashing checks on random days and my job (not Postmates) has a bad habit of paying me also on random days, which makes it hard to keep track of my cash flow. So I'm always short for something, basically, living paycheck to paycheck, you know the drill.
I was hoping Postmates would be a way to help me worry less about rent but if this abysmal Thursday was an example, that's not the case. I made $17 in 5 hours. Up until that night I was clearing $17 an hour. I try not to panic about the rent thing even though it means I might have to pay fees and I'll have to face my landlord about it. I am in panic mode now and crying on the subway status. Millennial can't pay rent and Postmates is not a solution to that.
I look at the heatmap on the Postmates Fleet app and it says it's hot above Union Square and below Midtown. I decide to get off in Chelsea on 23rd. I exit the subway but am still feeling dramz and crying about my fate, woe is me NYC. WOE IS ME. As I'm sobbing I get a ping for an order at Juice Press for 4 smoothies. I skip that noise so fast. After several drink/drink shop related mishaps I have decided to forego drink orders because the stress of them is not worth it. Also I forgot my gloves and drinks are impossible to transport as a walker if not holding them.
I wait a couple of minutes for another ping but one never comes. I resign to the slow night. Lesson learned. Only do Postmates on the busy weekend. Or at least, avoid weekdays during active Bonus missions. Currently Postmates is giving $100 for 65 and $200 for 100 orders between Weds-Sunday. I was hoping I could do 65 but I see now Bonuses are for couriers with vehicles, who get priority for orders and more orders due to being able to cover more distance.
Aside from not being able to pay rent, my permit is about to expire without me having gotten a drivers license.
I thought about the Dad from earlier and realized what a damn good story that was. Perhaps I won't do Postmates for money but for stories. And maybe to find a sugar daddy because I need to pay rent, y'all.
