The True Confessions of a Bicycle Messenger
by Ratius Roadius
Mercury Rising #9, December 1993
12 years ago the alarm went off and I woke up broke, unemployed &badly hung-over.
The summer after High School ended I was workin at the car wash. I hadworked there on weekends & during the summer for the past 3 years.Eventually earning that coveted position of driving the cars off the track.First you jump in while the cars still on the track & do the insidewindows. Then you drive the car down & park it, jump out & do therear windows. The driver also collects the tip, if any, & splits itwith the other rag men. Sometimes, if the owner was still inside, one ofthe guys would squirt some soap into the path of the rear wheel, then I'dfloor it and the wheels would spin out. When the tire finally caught drypavement the fucker would fly out of there like the proverbial Bat you'veall heard so much about. One time he owner came out just as his car wasgetting airborn & almost clocked me when I got out of his car.
I remember sayin, Sorry mister, your car is just so powerful, I wasn'texpecting it".
Well the boss wasn't fooled & he canned my ass pronto.
A couple days later the phone rings & it's my brother asking meif I want a job ridin a bike around downtown delivering packages.
"Sounds pretty easy, I say, so when do I start?" "Comedown to 84 & 2nd St. tomorrow at 8 & talk to the Boss, Okay ...click...
Hell Bent Couriers is a total fucking looney bin. Phones are all ringin& people screamin & this guy's motioning me to come over. One ofthe women answering the phones yells...
They need it now, what do you want me to tell them! "Tell themto fuck off, I don't care, tell em anything", then tumlng to me, "whencan you start?"
"Uh...now, I guess."
So after fillin' out some paperwork they give me a shirt & a pager& a stack of order slips.. Then they show me to this piece of shitold Ross 5-speed, blood red, with a wild basket, pull back bars, heavyas hell, & destined for destruction.
The boss says, Get over to 1234 Market St., White & Williams arelosin it, get over there now & clean this shit up, then call me rightback"
So here I am, ridin this behemoth up Market St. & it feels good.I get goin faster & faster, feelin' the wind on my face, thinkin howeasy this is gonna be. Suddenly I realize that this thing's got no brakes.Great, now I'm gonna die & I haven't even made my first pick-up, howembarrassing. I finally manage to stop the thing & tighten up the brakecable so I've got some brakes at least.
1234 Market is a vast affair with giant escalators goin from the streetlevel up to the mezzanine or down to the subway station. White & Williamsare on 20 & as I step into the elevator I find buttons 1-10 only. Itry to escape but the doors are closed. I hit 3, too late, I finally getout at 6 cursing & vowing not to ever make that mistake again. So it'sback to the lobby & over to the other elevators & finally I'm depositedon the 20th floor.
Greeted by a dull florescent glow which seems almost audible, I wanderinto the reception area. Some expensive looking chairs are squatting uglyon an Oriental rug. A glass coffee table, neatly adorned with those idioticbusiness magazines, grins up at me as if to say, 'Howdy stranger, noneof this is for you,' so hurry up & get the hell out of here.
The receptionist looks up at me & says, "What took you so long,where were you? This is supposed to be delivered by 9."
I just shrug & smile stupidly, grab the package & take the tablesadvice.
| main | articles | laws | zines | report | 10-9 day |
If you have comments or suggestions, email me at messvilleto@yahoo.com