Showing posts with label amateur sociology. Show all posts
Showing posts with label amateur sociology. Show all posts

05 September 2022

What, And How, We Have Delivered

Today is Labor Day in the U.S.A.  I am going to talk about some people who make their livings on their bikes.

No, this isn't about professional bicycle racers.  Rather, I am referring to messengers and delivery workers.

I was a New York City bicycle messenger for just over a year, in 1983-84.  FAX machines were becoming fixtures in offices and other work (and, in a few cases, residential) settings;  a decade would pass before the Internet would connect them.  Still another decade or so would go by before documents like contracts that required signatures could be sent digitally.

Nearly four decades ago, most restaurant and other delivery workers rode bicycles; so did just about all messengers.  The differences between and among us were in the kinds of bikes we rode.  Some restaurant and pizzeria delivery workers pedaled specially-made industrial bicycles with fitted baskets, most of which were made by Worksman Bicycles, still located just a few miles from my apartment.  Others--and some messengers--rode whatever they could get, from whomever they could. (It was common knowledge that if your bike was stolen, you should go to (pre-gentrified)  St. Mark's Place where, shall we say, one didn't ask questions.)  And then there were messengers who rode the then-newfangled mountain bikes or bikes that seemed newfangled to most people even thought they'd been around since the early days of bicycles. I am talking, of course, about fixed-gear machines.

Such was the case until well into the 2010s.  These days, however, you never see a delivery worker on a pedal-only bicycle:  They're riding e-bikes.  The reason for that is, of course, that most are working, not for the restaurants themselves, but for app companies like DoorDash, who classify their deliverers as "independent contractors."  That means those workers are paid--and their terms of employment depend on metrics the company keeps.  

I, and most other messengers, were paid in the same way.  The difference was that we weren't working for app companies that recorded our every move and turned the data into "metrics."  If we got that contract or sample--or, in one case I recall vividly, a paining from a Soho gallery (Yes, the neighborhood hadn't yet become an open-air mall.) to Judy Collins (Yes, that Judy Collins!) in a timely fashion, we were considered "good" messengers and got more work.  

As the wheels under delivery workers turned from pedal bicycles to eBikes, bicycle messengers disappeared.  I rarely them anymore, even in the Financial District and other dense neighborhoods of Manhattan.  Much of the reason for that is, of course, the digitization of documents.  Not only does that mean much less work overall; it also means that are few urgent or "rush" deliveries.  That, in turn, means customers are less willing to pay more than a couple of dollars to have, say, a sample of a neon hoodie brought to their door.


Photo by Cole Burston, for the Toronto Star



I hope I don't sound like an old fogie (after all this is Midlife Cycling!) pining for "the good old days."  But there is much I miss about the messengering milieu of four decades ago.  For one, I was able to make pretty decent money--which is precisely what enabled me to move back to New York.  For another, it was a job that people like me, a young misfit, could do.  Finally, being an "independent contractor" meant that I was, well, independent:  As long as the jobs I took on were done quickly, people didn't care about how I dressed (though I did try to be neat, as I occasionally entered professional offices) or, for that matter whether I was hung over or high.

OK, now I'll tell you about one of the dirty little secrets of the trade.  In addition to consuming lots of pizza, pasta, rice and beans, french fries and other high-carb foods, we partook of, uh, certain herbal substances.  I haven't smoked weed since, probably, a year or two after I stopped working as a messenger, but in those days, I smoked stuff I rolled myself.  So did just about every other messenger I knew.

(One great thing about getting older is that the statute of limitations runs out on most non-capital offenses!)

I think that for food delivery workers, nearly all of whom are immigrants, there is a more serious consequence. Ebikes are far more expensive than regular bicycles.  Few, if any, can pay for them up front.  So, they are in debt, whether to the dealers who sold them the machines or to whomever loaned them the money.  


Photo by Paul Frangipane, for Bloomberg News



Oh, and even though the New York City Council ruled  that delivery workers for app companies are, in fact, employees who are entitled to minimum wage, unemployment insurance, worker's compensation and other benefits, the companies are simply flouting the law because they know a worker who's in debt and doesn't speak English well or at all is in no position to fight them.

In short, the changes in delivery work--and the near-disappearance of messenger work--has, to whatever degree, contributed to the ever-widening gap between, not just the rich and poor, but also (and more importantly, I believe) between those who can gain a foothold in this economy and move up, and those who can't.  I have to wonder what the young person I was--depressed and angry, unable to deal with office politics or over-entitled clients--would do today.


17 July 2013

Volunteering In Recycle-A-Bicycle's "Other" Center

This evening, i helped out at Recycle-A-Bicycle's Long Island City center.  I learned about it while helping out at RAB's DUMBO location.  

Both spaces are cluttered, as are most bike shops in New York CIty.  However, the Long Island CIty location feels more like a bike shop:  Spaces are used in ways that even most of us who've lived in postage stamp-sized apartments would have trouble imagining.  On the other hand, in DUMBO, some attempt is made to create space (or, at least the illusion of it) in the front area.  Also, the front of DUMBO is well-lit, both from the front windows as well as the light fixtures.  Even the image of such light is not possible in the more bunkerlike space at Long Island City.

As much as I enjoyed volunteering at the DUMBO spot, I think I'm going to continue helping out in Long Island CIty.  For one thing, it's much closer to where I live.  Also, the folks who run it--and those who volunteer--seem to be a more diverse group, even if there are fewer of them than there are at DUMBO.  I think it has to do with the way the neighborhood around the latter site has become chic in the way Soho was about twenty years ago (before it became the world's first mall with cast-iron architecture).  DUMBO is trying to appeal to a crowd that, I think, reads New York magazine when it isn't going to craft and food fairs.  In contrast, the neighborhood around the Long Island City site is still mostly industrial--as DUMBO was about thirty years ago--although new condo towers have opened nearby.

Oh, and I can't forget that the folks in Long Island CIty know from music.  It's always playing==everything from ''60's  rock classics, 70's funk and soul classics to rap from all over the world.

Finally, the Long Island CIty center has a greater selection of bikes: everything from a custom tandem to an early Trek carbon fiber bike, a couple of Peugeot PX-10s and a bike that looks like an imitation of a Flying Pigeon. (Why anyone would imitate such a bike is beyond me.)

And then there was an English three=speed with a missing head emblem and chainguard, but this chainring: