When you are slammed, and I mean slammed, five deliveries in your bag, 7 pick ups writen on the back of a bubble gum wrapper, and the phone keeps ringing, all the while that little voicemail icon has been showing for the past fifteen minutes, kind of slammed. You FEEL important.
But don’t kid yourself. You are not important. You are simply busy. You are a bicycle messenger. You are suppose to be busy. You are not suppose to be important. The lady who called in the delivery is more important than you are. And she isn’t important either. This Christmas every vendor and/or contractor will be invited to your clients holiday party. You, however, will not be. And if by some strange happenings you get an informal pity invite, you will most likely spend the evening explaining to all the important people why you, the courier, are there. And don’t be to shocked when asking the wait staff from the catering company where the restroom is when they reply, “I’m sorry, this is a private party” and they then point to the exit.
But that’s just the way it is when you are a courier and your idea of dressing up is wearing a different pair of pants then you’ve worn the past 5 days. (that and not rolling up your pant leg on the drivetrain side)
The days over. All my deliveries are done. I have nothing to show for the work I’ve done and I don’t feel very important. But I feel content. I did what I woke up to do, and that was do what I said I would do. It goes without saying, messengers get the package delivered, on time, with a signature. And that my friend is important.
