Gotta get down on Friday

My day starts the same as it always does, with a cat acting up at 545 am. I sit up in bed and walk over to my two awaiting phones and my stack of clothes for the day, doing my best to not wake my girlfriend. Unlike me, she enjoys sleep so I do my best to get out of there ASAP. I meander downstairs, take care of the dogs and sit at my computer to check my stories, meaning the weather and news, and crack a can of monster. Weather looks good, and the Cavs… well there’s always next year.

“base to 29”

Groan. They’re hitting me up again before I get downtown with a stack coming out of the architects. I haul over the bridge, taking my gloves off when I get to my first picks. Four come out and go in my bag, the radio beeps with two more across town. I drop two on the way, and keep moving the whole time craving coffee and a bagel. I clear six in an hour and the radio lets up. I wander into Roccos for much needed starch and coffee.

“base to 29”

12 come out of the court reporters. This is great news as this means I won’t get as hammered at the end of the day. They start getting dropped all over the city and the radio goes off every 15 or so minutes with one or two more, I’m on target for my drop times and everything seems to be fittting in. I keep up this pace until about 33o.

“base to 29”

Three filings from three seperate places all come out at once, and all have to be done in 45 minutes. Not  a problem, I close my eyes, remember the jobs in my bag and map out my next four stops. Pick up three in twenty minutes, check on a daily and keep moving.

“base to 29”

Fuckbeans, two more filings and they’re on opposite ends of downtown. I’ve now got 20 minutes till deadline, I haul to the closest one and sprint to the second. Heading down Euclid in the bus lane I bypass all the traffic lights and sail past E.9. 4:04 PM, this isn’t good. I leave the building at 410 and fly down E.9 barely riding the double yellow occasionally going the wrong way into traffic. Risky, yes, necessary, of course. I get to court at 416 and the line is 15 people deep. I’m saved, I’ll make the cutoff and manage to not boot one. Still holding four jobs and five returns I hope that this kills my day out. Please radio, I’m tired of hearing you I need a break to catch up.

“base to 29”

I resist every urge to scream at the boss. At this point I’m 4o+ jobs in and don’t want anymore. Graphics are coming out at 445 for the downtown restaurants for weekend events. They’re all car jobs so they pay double, so I shouldn’t say no. My eyes are heavy and I’m yawning on every elevator but I’ve gotta push through. Just one more hour, keep telling yourself that. Six more done by the time I get to the graphics. The rest were closed so they get re-delivered Monday. Three flat folders go in the bag, two go down easily. The third is problematic, nobody at the restaurant knows who they go to and won’t sign for it. Not to mention they’re a tad pissed this stinky messenger is standing in their sterile 75 dollar a plate environment. On the outside I’m calm and profeesional, on the inside I want to knife everyone giving me the stink eye. I’m just doing my job, I don’t need this right now. The manager finally comes back out from his office, and accepts the printing he ordered, while ushering me out the door.

“29 to base, I’m 10-18 and if the radio makes any more noise today I’m gonna kill it with fire”

“Good copy, great job today, you did great”

I lock up outside the bar, five more bikes already there. That first yuengling is so refreshing after a day in the field. The guys are already there, eating, drinking and relaxing. I order a pizza and start to finish my paperwork. All told 61 orders today, and six were car rate. My paperwork is done, and pizza is gone. I ride home in the dark. Grab a shower, spend a friday in with my girlfriend and hope that I get to sleep soon. I’ve been doing this for years and I know sleep is where you recover. Plus, I have a cross race sunday!

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