Sunday, June 15, 2008
Wheels.
Made more money this week building them than riding them. Slow time for packages this summer, fast season for the spoke wrench.
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Dispatchers
Now that I have a well intentioned dispatcher it is a little bit harder for me to draw upon the anger present in the normal courier/dispatch relationship. I have to draw upon long forgotten wounds. My current dispatcher rides into work which is a pleasant change of pace. Instead of a fat slob pushing me harder and harder on a rainy day. I now get to smile knowing that he is about to get his. In factor should really be a requirement for anyone whom dispatches cyclists to ride in A couple days a week.
And don't forget that no matter how many times you help them out of a jam that when the axe falls they will let it fall down to you.
And don't forget that no matter how many times you help them out of a jam that when the axe falls they will let it fall down to you.
First day back
After a long trip, the first day back is always a little strange. Your tires allways seem a bit too low and slow. Or maybe your chain is too tight. Soon you fall back in the rhythm and everything clicks back in.
Pretty soon you feel right at home with oncoming traffic taking lefts into you. Pouring sweat pushing into elevators with perfect perfumed suits.
Receptionist, "Is it hot out there," well honey it ain't raining, and you're not the one getting me wet.
Which brings me to another little known fact. Bicycle couriers are also amateur meteorologists. Even in the digital age nobody trusts a weatherman if he isn't on the street so people come straight to the source. Usually with startling stupidity. Couriers worldwide come into offices pushing soaking manifests toward receptionists, lawyers, doctors, and every type of people far too educated don't catch such a subtle nuance as the trail that soggy vans leave on expensive carpet. Clever answers include things that you would never say like, "No It's not raining took a swim with all my shit including your package before I rushed your package over." Who knows how I would explain away the snow in my hood if I worked in a colder city, and maybe my lack of tolerance for dealing with,"Is it snowing?" is half the reason other than just not enjoying it.
The thing you have to remember though is that these people are presumably more educated and certainly make more money than we do. All the while they can't remember to put an address on a package, or bother to look out their windows with beautiful views. No, we check the weather for ourselves, because we have to deal with it. Before we head to work, at the office, and on those nifty weather updates they've got on the elevators now, it matters to us. Slipping out an hour early before the downpour means one more day you can wake up and put on a dry bag, and thus one more day before you go ahead and do something worthwhile with your time. So if you ask nicely we'll clue you in, and quite likely we've got a better chance at predicting correctly than Al Roker.
Pretty soon you feel right at home with oncoming traffic taking lefts into you. Pouring sweat pushing into elevators with perfect perfumed suits.
Receptionist, "Is it hot out there," well honey it ain't raining, and you're not the one getting me wet.
Which brings me to another little known fact. Bicycle couriers are also amateur meteorologists. Even in the digital age nobody trusts a weatherman if he isn't on the street so people come straight to the source. Usually with startling stupidity. Couriers worldwide come into offices pushing soaking manifests toward receptionists, lawyers, doctors, and every type of people far too educated don't catch such a subtle nuance as the trail that soggy vans leave on expensive carpet. Clever answers include things that you would never say like, "No It's not raining took a swim with all my shit including your package before I rushed your package over." Who knows how I would explain away the snow in my hood if I worked in a colder city, and maybe my lack of tolerance for dealing with,"Is it snowing?" is half the reason other than just not enjoying it.
The thing you have to remember though is that these people are presumably more educated and certainly make more money than we do. All the while they can't remember to put an address on a package, or bother to look out their windows with beautiful views. No, we check the weather for ourselves, because we have to deal with it. Before we head to work, at the office, and on those nifty weather updates they've got on the elevators now, it matters to us. Slipping out an hour early before the downpour means one more day you can wake up and put on a dry bag, and thus one more day before you go ahead and do something worthwhile with your time. So if you ask nicely we'll clue you in, and quite likely we've got a better chance at predicting correctly than Al Roker.
Sunday, May 25, 2008
Feedback
Someone today said that the day of the hook is over. If that is true than the day of the bike courier is at an end as well. That or the rates have to go up.
Sunday, May 11, 2008
Two and a half years.
Yami and I always joke about how when he quits I'll have to work for another five years so we can say that we've both worked the same amount of time. There are many things you can accomplish in five years and working for the same company I started at as a rookie would only be justified in the pursuit of other goals.
Getting canned over the phone was a bit of a surprise. I've seen quite a few cyclists(and ten fold more drivers) get washed through the company. Some lasted a day, well usually it would be a winter day with 20 mile winds and oh I'd say 8 hours of 33degree rain sometime the week before Christmas. Or a week, in the middle of June and the dehydration and exhaustion sent them home for the weekend that turned into a week, and then turned in their radios for the paycheck. A select few however enjoy(or tolerate it) and can show up consistently and even make something more of it than a paycheck to paycheck existence.
My problem say the vets, was trying to turn a company reliant on the rookies inexperience and resulting pliability, into a consistent source of fair income and honest work. Companies who want to keep your checks low to keep you coming out and always working harder for bigger checks that never come. Knowing that when you burn out there will be someone else willing, or even begging to take your place. Hopefully even a rider living with their parents to whom pay is secondary to the all important social capital of courier cred. But at the back of my mind was always the looming reality that there were only so many companies in town, and a couple of burned bridges would leave me without anywhere else to go, so I stayed on. Until they forced my hand.
So luckily I got my foot in at the elite company in town(thanks BoBo, and Larry). And the last few weeks have me convinced that a change was needed.
Getting canned over the phone was a bit of a surprise. I've seen quite a few cyclists(and ten fold more drivers) get washed through the company. Some lasted a day, well usually it would be a winter day with 20 mile winds and oh I'd say 8 hours of 33degree rain sometime the week before Christmas. Or a week, in the middle of June and the dehydration and exhaustion sent them home for the weekend that turned into a week, and then turned in their radios for the paycheck. A select few however enjoy(or tolerate it) and can show up consistently and even make something more of it than a paycheck to paycheck existence.
My problem say the vets, was trying to turn a company reliant on the rookies inexperience and resulting pliability, into a consistent source of fair income and honest work. Companies who want to keep your checks low to keep you coming out and always working harder for bigger checks that never come. Knowing that when you burn out there will be someone else willing, or even begging to take your place. Hopefully even a rider living with their parents to whom pay is secondary to the all important social capital of courier cred. But at the back of my mind was always the looming reality that there were only so many companies in town, and a couple of burned bridges would leave me without anywhere else to go, so I stayed on. Until they forced my hand.
So luckily I got my foot in at the elite company in town(thanks BoBo, and Larry). And the last few weeks have me convinced that a change was needed.
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
The split.
This is something that all couriers must deal with but it is even more annoying in Atlanta, not only because I have to deal with it," but because of our geography. Years ago most of the work was centralized around the courts downtown with legal clients situated along peachtree no more than two blocks or so to the east or west. Before I came out clients started moving north, meaning that our job now consists mainly of traversing this 4 mile north south corridor with only two blocks or so of variation east or west. While making it fairly easy for the rookies to learn all the addresses, it enables heartless dispatchers to ruin(or try to) your day.
Example. 1070-to base, i'm clear downtown. Dispatch-come to midtown to pick a round trip headed down to courts.
Now not only am I being dead headed(making 0$ for the four miles up to midtown), but I'm going to be coming right back to where I currently am. At which point in all likelihood the same thing is going to happen again. One of my former dispatchers liked to call it yo-yo. I liked it when he quit.
1070-to base, thats a lot of riding for 8 bucks with nothing else hooked in. Dispatch-silence.....this is the game they play. They want you to feel bad for not being a team player or some such bullshit. They forget a couple of things.
-They get payed to dispatch efficiently which dogging me out for days on end by having me somehow be the only chance for a package on the other side of town.
-I don't exist in two places at once no matter how hard they try to believe this.
-I've been doing this long enough not to be scared of one idle afternoon.
-I rarely refuse packages.
-I save their asses repeatedly.
-I don't complain(to them anyways).
1070-to base I've got downtown covered. Dispatch.....silence
Low and behold 30 minutes later they found runs within three miles of my last drop.
Now I've heard all the bullshit about how I we can't see the whole picture, and how actually we'd make much more money if we jumped blindly at every run like it was the last lap of the scratch. If this was the case it would only take two seconds to explain that to me. Dispatch-to biker, hey I've got 50 bucks worth of tickets set up on a loop starting in midtown. 1070-to base sent me the pages i'm on my way. See how simple that would be. That could be communicated in maybe what ten seconds. Or simply... Dispatch-to biker, hey you're my only hope on this one but I'll hook it up later. 1070-to base, no problem page it. Wasn't that easy, i don't even have to be the last chance on it but if you lie at least i won't view the situation in a negative light, I'll cringe and bear it knowing if even falsely that in the end it will mean a favorable run, or a morning to sleep in a little later.
....Ahh the glory days of going down with 20 court runs and making 100 bucks in an hour on one loop.
Example. 1070-to base, i'm clear downtown. Dispatch-come to midtown to pick a round trip headed down to courts.
Now not only am I being dead headed(making 0$ for the four miles up to midtown), but I'm going to be coming right back to where I currently am. At which point in all likelihood the same thing is going to happen again. One of my former dispatchers liked to call it yo-yo. I liked it when he quit.
1070-to base, thats a lot of riding for 8 bucks with nothing else hooked in. Dispatch-silence.....this is the game they play. They want you to feel bad for not being a team player or some such bullshit. They forget a couple of things.
-They get payed to dispatch efficiently which dogging me out for days on end by having me somehow be the only chance for a package on the other side of town.
-I don't exist in two places at once no matter how hard they try to believe this.
-I've been doing this long enough not to be scared of one idle afternoon.
-I rarely refuse packages.
-I save their asses repeatedly.
-I don't complain(to them anyways).
1070-to base I've got downtown covered. Dispatch.....silence
Low and behold 30 minutes later they found runs within three miles of my last drop.
Now I've heard all the bullshit about how I we can't see the whole picture, and how actually we'd make much more money if we jumped blindly at every run like it was the last lap of the scratch. If this was the case it would only take two seconds to explain that to me. Dispatch-to biker, hey I've got 50 bucks worth of tickets set up on a loop starting in midtown. 1070-to base sent me the pages i'm on my way. See how simple that would be. That could be communicated in maybe what ten seconds. Or simply... Dispatch-to biker, hey you're my only hope on this one but I'll hook it up later. 1070-to base, no problem page it. Wasn't that easy, i don't even have to be the last chance on it but if you lie at least i won't view the situation in a negative light, I'll cringe and bear it knowing if even falsely that in the end it will mean a favorable run, or a morning to sleep in a little later.
....Ahh the glory days of going down with 20 court runs and making 100 bucks in an hour on one loop.
Saturday, May 3, 2008
Why?
The idea of all this comes from a few places. The urge to write strikes me very once in a while, and some people have said that I should put something out there that perhaps people would enjoy. Recently I've been writing a post or two for NO BRAKES . In that format there is only so much that I'm capable of, things have to keep people positively interested in our services, products and events. If I am to write more I realized it had to be in an independent forum.
Recently I've been reading Dispatch 101 and that was a secondary and not all positive motivation for this(no personal animosity intended). Dispatchers and couriers have always had a love hate relationship, and a testament to the skill of the authors abilities he communicates it in such a familiar way that I can almost imagine that my own dispatcher is behind it. I have to resist writing nasty things on his comment board the same way I have to resist coming back on the radio with a 10-4uck-you!
The bicycle courier has had many cartoonish nemesis' in our sordid history, dispatchers, drug dealers trying to run Kevin Bacon over, and the elvators at 600 are just a few. But coming in near the top of the list, and particularly relevant for the last week is the car courier.. Whom we couriers simply call "some driver". Ex. I'm waiting on "some driver" to pick up his package that was all ready late when i got the page. Typical responses upon chirping a driver consist of, what?, where is peachtree?, something spoken in a foreign dialect, I don't know anything about it, where dat?, dead silence, and I'm busy right now. Now I can't fault somebody for being an idiot, or speaking one more language than I can, but your job as a courier is not to be lost, and we are both quite likely busy at any given moment on a monday through friday 9-5 so spare me the attitude. I can also guarantee that I didn't ask to do your job for you. If it was up to me I would never circumvent you as a car driver dealing with all the traffic between you and your destination. Believe me when I say me even talking to you is 100percent at the request of our mutual employers. Not only am I performing my job and on these particular two weeks the job of my fellow bike messenger(he covered for me when I got married so the least I can do is return the favor, congrats matt and valerie!)but now I am also picking up slack for you and your fellow drivers, doing multiple peoples jobs with little hope of actually making any more money(the pitfalls of the guarantee to be covered in later posts). The grumpiness and sloth exhibited by a driver when you pick a package up for them seems even more extreme when in contrast with the speed and urgency of a driver unloading all of their 20 pound packages on you at once with their children in the back and girlfriend/wife/older daughter in the seat next to them. However "inaccessible" a location you were at while trying to get them to come pick up the 50 pound box you grabed for them the day before, they can find you within a minute flat when they need to throw every one of their packages on you and head for the hills to either produce more children or have a nice family dinner at chilli's depending again upon how old that woman in the passenger seat is. They can find you anywhere and instantly make you realize that the whole being lost thing is only a ruse. Occasionally a driver will come along who is competent and can communicate with fluency and ease. A week or so will pass, then dispatch learns of this and makes sure that you are never allowed to speak with them ever again.
Recently I've been reading Dispatch 101 and that was a secondary and not all positive motivation for this(no personal animosity intended). Dispatchers and couriers have always had a love hate relationship, and a testament to the skill of the authors abilities he communicates it in such a familiar way that I can almost imagine that my own dispatcher is behind it. I have to resist writing nasty things on his comment board the same way I have to resist coming back on the radio with a 10-4uck-you!
The bicycle courier has had many cartoonish nemesis' in our sordid history, dispatchers, drug dealers trying to run Kevin Bacon over, and the elvators at 600 are just a few. But coming in near the top of the list, and particularly relevant for the last week is the car courier.. Whom we couriers simply call "some driver". Ex. I'm waiting on "some driver" to pick up his package that was all ready late when i got the page. Typical responses upon chirping a driver consist of, what?, where is peachtree?, something spoken in a foreign dialect, I don't know anything about it, where dat?, dead silence, and I'm busy right now. Now I can't fault somebody for being an idiot, or speaking one more language than I can, but your job as a courier is not to be lost, and we are both quite likely busy at any given moment on a monday through friday 9-5 so spare me the attitude. I can also guarantee that I didn't ask to do your job for you. If it was up to me I would never circumvent you as a car driver dealing with all the traffic between you and your destination. Believe me when I say me even talking to you is 100percent at the request of our mutual employers. Not only am I performing my job and on these particular two weeks the job of my fellow bike messenger(he covered for me when I got married so the least I can do is return the favor, congrats matt and valerie!)but now I am also picking up slack for you and your fellow drivers, doing multiple peoples jobs with little hope of actually making any more money(the pitfalls of the guarantee to be covered in later posts). The grumpiness and sloth exhibited by a driver when you pick a package up for them seems even more extreme when in contrast with the speed and urgency of a driver unloading all of their 20 pound packages on you at once with their children in the back and girlfriend/wife/older daughter in the seat next to them. However "inaccessible" a location you were at while trying to get them to come pick up the 50 pound box you grabed for them the day before, they can find you within a minute flat when they need to throw every one of their packages on you and head for the hills to either produce more children or have a nice family dinner at chilli's depending again upon how old that woman in the passenger seat is. They can find you anywhere and instantly make you realize that the whole being lost thing is only a ruse. Occasionally a driver will come along who is competent and can communicate with fluency and ease. A week or so will pass, then dispatch learns of this and makes sure that you are never allowed to speak with them ever again.
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