Huff.
Puff.
Pant.
Wheeze…
Um, excuse me for a minute while I bend over and throw up. Oh, wait, I already did that. Heck, I guess I’ll just get back in the truck and wait for the next house.
What? Already. Okay, damn. Out we go again. Up the hill, around the corner and a quick jump over the sleeping pit bull. Drop the package at the front door, turn around and realize that my quick jump woke up the 70 pound ball of razor blades and acid for blood dog. Hmmm. All this for a quick buck?
Let me back up a bit, in order to bring in money I took a job with UPS as a driver assistant. Sounds innocuous, right?
Umm, no.
First, let me point this out - there is a reason you NEVER see a fat UPS or FEDEX driver. The job runs the fat off of you in very short order. For a driver alone in a truck, there can be as many as 140 deliveries to make during a normal 8 to 10 hour day. There are times that they are so busy that the only breaks during the day involved taking a quick piss and grabbing a coke. Lunches frequent are ignored so that the job can get done in a decent amount of time. And as time progresses nearer to the holidays, that can get worse.
UPS took to hiring helpers to ride with the drivers to keep the process flowing. It makes the job easier for the primary driver and it helps employ some poor schmuck who needs a little help. Most people who do it are looking for extra Christmas cash. Some have been unemployed for a while and just need any kind of money.
And that’s where I enter the picture. No job, no money and the holidays rushing up like a fucking freight train on crack. Gotta do something to get some money coming in. So when the opportunity presents itself to work for one of the largest employers in America, I jump at the chance. Albeit somewhat reluctantly, but I jump nonetheless.
I am prepared for the whole ‘new guy’ effect. I am prepared for the possibility of getting bit by dogs, harassed by those few white people who still think blacks are the spawn of Satan. Heck I was even prepared for the small pay that they offer.
What I wasn’t prepared for were the hills. And the running. And the 3/10ths of a mile long driveways carrying Johnny or Janie’s 40 pound toy. Please remember, I am 43 years old. I stand 5’6” and weigh 210 pounds. So I am not exactly in prime fighting shape for my weight class. A polite person would call me pudgy, but I’m not polite so I call myself fat. Call a spade a spade and all that. I’ve been working on losing weight, but that’s a whole nuther blog entry.
The majority of houses that are on the route I share are in ‘upper’ class neighborhoods, which is to say that they are $250K and up. And I noticed one thing right away. They all love long, winding, sloping driveways. And dogs. They ALL love dogs…
In an effort to make the deliveries go faster the driver will park the truck on the street in front of the residence and run the package to the front door or garage of the home. During the orientation we were told that they expected a ‘brisk walk’ from the truck to the residence and back to the truck. I was quickly disabused of this notion by the driver I was assigned to. He doesn’t brisk walk. He runs. From the truck to the house and back, running. Fast.
Since I didn’t want to appear to be some sort of punk, I took my cue from him. But then reality, and gravity, set in. The first hill I ran up reminded me of the facts of life. From not running to running isn't a good idea for a 43 year old sedentary man. The driver is 24. Granted, he’s a bit taller than me, and might even outweigh me. But he's been doing this for 5 years.
And he’s 24…
I felt like a great beached whale the first time I tried to run back down a 25% grade driveway and all the flubber on my body was moving this way and that under my skin. It would have been embarrassing if I hadn’t been wrapped in a hoody. As it was, I’ve never noticed the areas of my body that were jiggling before. Stuff on my sides and in my back. Who ever notices the sides of their body?
Anyway, I worked the first two days for 2 hours each. 2 hours of hitting the ground running and trying to maintain that pace without bursting my heart. Oddly enough, I realized that I am in better shape than I thought. I only panted and wheezed for a few seconds after each delivery.
My body, though complaining loudly, seemed to be enjoying itself. With the exception of the 2 mile walks I take daily through our neighborhood, this is the most exercise that I’ve had in 3 years. When I was driving the tow truck I stayed in pretty good shape because of the physicality of the job. But two years working for AT&T, sitting in a cube and yakking on the phone had pretty much undone that.
It was weird and exhilarating to be moving again in the fresh air. It rained the first day, but the second day was nice and sunny, if a bit cold. The whole thing woke up a part of me that working in a strictly environment controlled building put to sleep a long time ago. I felt alive. I felt free. I also felt a LOT of pain.
The strange thing was, my body seemed to recover quickly. The morning of the second day I was stiff for a few moments, but after I got moving I was fine. The morning of the third day was a bit more intense. Even my ass muscles hurt. I’m telling you, if you’ve never had your ass muscles hurt; it’s a very unique experience. Try it sometime, seriously, I dare you.
The job is scheduled to last until the 31st of December. I will stick with it because we need the money. I will also stick with it because I am too stupid to quit. So unless I get hurt or mauled by somebody’s damned pit bull, I expect to be sore and happy for the next 25 or so days.
Pant.
Pant.
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