Life As A DoorDasher

Smith Collection/Gado. Getty Images.

It's a rainy day here in NYC and I decided to order delivery instead of venturing out into the wet unknown. As my delivery guy arrived, soaked and dripping I remembered, I too was once a delivery person and I have an archived blog to prove it. Also keep in mind this was during the hight of the AMC stock boom, enjoy.

For some reason, there’s this guy who keeps coming to my apartment on the first of every month asking me to pay him copious amounts of money. He calls it “rent collection,” but I call it stalking. Anyways, to keep the Monopoly man away I give him the money he asks for. I’m scared he’s going to come back again this month and I don’t have what he needs.

I considered getting a steady 9-5 job in order to pay this man. But that would’ve been the smart choice, and your girl graduated highschool with a 1.59. So instead, I decided to take on some kind of side hustle. Side hustles allow you to work your own hours and be your own boss, while making pennies to the dollar. It’s an amazing profession to get into.

I started applying to all the services I use when I’m hungover; Postmates, Uber Eats, Drizzly. But they all turned me down for being “too hot” and having “too many redeeming qualities.” Luckly, DoorDash could look past all that and hired me immediately. I got started right away.

I decided to Dash on foot instead of driving my Porsche because I needed the exercise. Thankfully, it was perfect weather for the occasion, 30 degrees and hailing. I walked out the door and my adventure began. App on, headphones in, I wandered around the city waiting to be pinged. 

An hour went by and I had still yet to be selected, but that was fine by me. I looked at it like I was getting paid to get my steps in. Except, I wasn’t getting paid yet and I was no longer walking because my headphones died. 

I sat on a bench outside of a high class restaurant knowing that some rich stock broker would order an overpriced salad during their lunch break. I was right, my first ever DoorDash customer, Bill, requested a salmon caesar salad from that very same restaurant. 

I was excited to do my first delivery and had a pep in my step. Just like in the movies, the people of New York clapped and cheered as I gallivanted through the streets with Bill’s $28 salad. “Look at her go” they yelled, “She’s a hero” they screamed. One lady even begged me from afar to sign her baby’s forehead, but I had to respectfully decline. Bill was hungry and the only thing that could fix that was the salad in my hands. 

When I got to Bill’s office, there was a standing ovation. Bill ran to me in what felt like slow motion. He grabbed me by the waist and picked me up like the scene from Dirty Dancing. When he put me down, he whispered in my ear. “Here’s a little something for all your hard work.” He placed something in my hand and told me not to look at it until I left. 

When I got back down to the lobby, I looked to see what Bill had slipped into my possession. It was an AMC gift card. Why would Bill give me an AMC gift card? We’re in the middle of a pandemic and no one is going to the movies right now? Aren’t they going bankrupt? These were all questions that were running through my head as I walked out of the building. 

I checked my DoorDash app to see what I had made on my first ever Dash. $10 from DoorDash and $7 from Bill. A little skimpy for a guy wearing a gold encrusted blazer, but oh well…on to the next.

My search to find more wealthy clients was on. I headed toward the Upper East Side, in hopes to get an order from an old money housewife. To keep myself occupied I took a stroll into Central park, where I lost all sense of time. One minute I was admiring the birds, then the next thing I know I became one with them. In that moment I finally knew the truth. Birds ARE real. Little did I know this moment would be captured by paparazzi. 

After that, I knew it was time to get back to the grind. There was only one thing holding me back; I hadn’t received any more DoorDash requests. At this point, I had been out and about for nearly four hours. I walked for a little bit longer and found myself in what I thought was a parade. I later found out it was a political protest that I know nothing about, but we all had a lot of laughs. In the long run, that’s all that matters. 

Seven miles later, my legs began to quiver and shake so I made the executive decision to call it quits. While I was out, I heard people talking about a new luxurious way of transportation, so I gave it a try. Let me just say, those people weren’t wrong. This new thing called “the subway” was a fabulous and clean ride; I highly recommend. In time, I think it may even be the new Uber. You heard it here first.

Twenty minutes later, I arrived back home. Once I got up to my apartment I reflected on the day. Seven miles, five hours, and $17 to show for it. Hard work sure does pay off, I thought. I had so much fun on my journey, that I forgot I was even working. I kicked off my pigeon shit covered shoes and sat down on the hardwood floor. (Furniture is for poor people). 

I opened my phone to scroll aimlessly on social media for the next several hours. Until I came across a tweet, and then another tweet, and then another tweet all saying the same thing. “#AMC INVEST IN AMC STOCK! AMC TO THE MOON!!!!” I put my hands into my pocket and pulled out the gift card Bill had given me. In that moment I realized, it was never about the side hustle, or the pigeons, or even Bill. I was sent out into the world by fate, all to invest in AMC and become an overnight-meme-day-trading-millionaire.