“0-3 to base, 10-4.”

As a courier driver, it meant that I, the driver, had received the message.  And it didn’t matter if I wanted to make that inconvenient pick-up 5 minutes before the end of my shift, I still had the responsibility to do it, convenient or not.

It meant that I had received the message, and accepted the fact that it was now my responsibility to take that action for that customer.  You know, the people who pay my wages.

Often, as I said, it would be inconvenient.  Reichhold Chemicals was like that.  They were in a kind of out-of-the way spot on my route, on Wallace Road, and because of that, I’d plan my run accordingly to try and maximize my efficiency.  So when I made my stop at Reichhold at a little after 4 PM, I could quickly get back into shape to respond to things coming from the city core.

But if they called in for an “Oops, we forgot,” pickup after I’d already been there, it would mean scrambling to get back to them before they closed at 5 PM and bending me out of shape location and time-wise for other customers also closing at 5.

More often than not, that message of “0-3 to base, 10-4” would be followed by a stream of rich, creative profanity that would probably last until I got out of my truck at Reichhold, to be replaced by my corporate sunshine and roses demeanour for the secretary in the office, who happened to be cute.  Pretty shallow shit, but there it is.

Continue reading ““DELIVERED.” WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN?” →