The G.O.D. Squad

goods on delivery

Ever taken a pay cut?

Oh dear reader, have I ever taken a pay cut!

I’m now working as a driver’s helper for a major delivery company during their Christmas rush.

I’m adding incremental value as part of a commodity service.

I earn as much in a day as I did as a therapist in two hours.

I’m a widget and so is he.

He?

Oh,

He’s my driver.

‘My driver’…

Right?

I may be making earning marginally more than minimum wage, but like Mick Jagger, I have a driver.

He’s like a vocational butler.

He tells me how to log in and out and in again after breaks.

He’s shown me what to do with little things that you hang on the door to say tough shit motherfucker, you didn’t get your package today.

You know want I mean dear reader?

Those sucks to be you stickynotes from a delivery driver?

I’ve been riding around the countryside in a really uncomfortable chair dropping sucks to be you sticky notes on people’s front doors.

It’s so fucking fun!

I’m a cog in the machine working in one of the friendliest places on earth.

I’m dismissing everyone and moving packages along.

Short engagement. Pleasant. Efficient. Moving on.

It’s quite a blissful process.

Line up the package.

Teach it to pose (ass, tits, duck lips, one leg forward, you know - the lady standard)

Then?

I take its picture and send it to its owner.

Then?

Then I ring the door bell and walk away.

I’m playing knock knock ginger with a big loud metal get away rocket that roars like the hounds of hell caught their balls in a briar patch.

My driver?

Ricky.

Sometimes he goes by Rick.

But these days?

He’s calling himself Ricky.

Ricky says that one day, he was pulled up next to a garbage truck and says: Tell you what, I’ll take all my packages and throw them into your truck. That way, we’ll eliminate the middle man.

We deliver a lot of trash that well be trash very soon.

I’m just part of an enormous wave of garbage.

But that’s not the point.

As we’re driving past an isolated lake, the most vibrant gray sunset is mirrored perfectly off the surface of the lake.

Hey Ricky, Stop here.

Why dude?

Just stop here.

Ricky stopped the van.

I strode down to the waters edge.

It was a scene of isolated, idyllic beauty.

No one could be seen for miles around.

So I pulled out my firehose and let fly a piss that I’d been holding for hours.

Holding for hours over bumpy roads.

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

My sigh rippled across the lake causing a flock of Canada geese to take flight.

I reeled it in, zipped up then hopped back into the truck. Ricky was not impressed.

Jesus Jimmy, that had to be longest piss I’ve ever witnessed in my life!

I smiled and turned back to him and said:

Just drive the truck Ricky, I don’t want to know about you and your lady friend.

And with that, we drove off into the night.