Delivery people in NYC will always have a special place in my heart. Whizzing down the street on rickety bicycles in the pouring rain or heavy traffic, often going faster than cars, just to delivery your food quickly, for a $2 tip. They've brought me dinner on Christmas Day when I was all alone and couldn't fly home since I'd recently developed severe panic attacks and claustrophobia on planes. I remember that black man's warm and bright smile, as I felt a bit embarrassed to be all alone, but realized he was working on that day, so he had it worse. And then I realized he was delivering food mostly to people like me who were alone all day. He said "Merry Christmas" and I said it back and there was that very human moment for that pause in time.
After getting divorced, moving out, when I was feeling alone and my whole world had shattered, there was the late night cookie and milk delivery man. Those were the days of crying for most of the day and having trouble completing a simple task. That cookie man saw me at my most pathetic, at 2am, needing cookies desperately. He always smiled at me. I was embarrassed to need that smile, but I did.
Then there were the delivery people during the hurricane, as restaurants continued delivering the entire time. And there I was alone and scared in my apartment, and it was reassuring to have this bag of food which seemed so normal, and so brave of them to risk their lives in the hurricane just to get their $2 tip -- though of course I tipped much more on that day.
Then there were the days I was very sick or depressed and didn't have anyone to help me, or didn't feel comfortable asking anyone for help, and those guys showed up and saw me with no makeup feeling like death. I always give them the warmest smile I can, because I know their lives are hard, and I think they do more for people than most people do. They bring warmth and food to people.
I try to give them a bit of appreciation in a very welcoming smile when I open the door, because the truth is they get treated like crap and yelled at and paid so little for doing an essential and important job. They are brave, quick, tough people who are delivery drivers.
I wish they had better lives, were treated with more respect, and earned much more. Their job is important.
So many jobs that pay so little are our most important jobs. We need to respect these people more, and pay them what they are worth.
