Seaonal Purpose

In November I was perusing flexible job opportunities online and saw a posting for a well-known delivery company. I won’t name names, but think “earth tones.” On a lark, I applied. As I recalled, they once were one of the better employers around, paying higher rates than most other businesses. Besides, I thought it would be fun with the extra benefit of being physical.

Re: fun … it was. It was fun in the same way two-a-day football practices are fun. It was fun like military basic training is fun. It was fun because I was among a group of people doing challenging work that most people are unwilling to do. We raced time five days a week.

Re: physical … oh, my yes it was.

Two opportunities were made available to seasonal employees where I worked, preloading and jumping. Preloaders take items from one conveyance, reassign them, then load them into vehicles that will carry them to their final destinations. Jumpers, or helpers, ride in the delivery vehicles with drivers and assist them in delivering packages, generally in more densely populated areas where teaming can increase efficiency.

I was cautioned to avoid particulars and to take no pictures inside the facility. I have honored that stricture. I suppose their reasoning for this is much the same reason a fine restaurant does not walk you through the stockyards and the packing house when you order steak. All you want is a delicious meal well prepared, right? Never mind the details.

Know this: people in the delivery game have elevated the science of logistics and efficiency to an art form. Technology plays a critical role, but the key is good people and relationships. More on this in a moment.

I did preload. I didn’t think I would. I was concerned that it would be too much to handle along with jumping. Monday through Friday several people show up at the local distribution center at an appointed hour. They sort any items that have not been placed in package cars yet. They mentally come to grips with the fact that this is occurring during prime sleeping hours and they begin. A truck backs up to the bay door, somebody opens the rear door of the trailer and people along the line quietly prepare to do battle with the beast. Twin foes are at hand, volume and time. Everything temporarily contained by cargo netting will soon be rolling past.

The weapons used to tame these foes are mental agility and physical strength, with a dash of spatial thinking. As items are emptied from the semi trailer or box truck, they are assessed, added to a delivery route, and assigned to a specific package car—the term used to describe the large delivery vans noticeably zipping around your community like worker bees during peak season. The people preloading must be adept at picking out the items assigned to them and storing them at predetermined spots within the package car. Initially, this is manageable, but at some point during the loading process there will be a deluge of packages assigned to one car. They will be small, large, light, very heavy, boxed, enveloped, bagged, and must be dealt with now. Another truck has just arrived on the lot and will be unloaded immediately after this one.

Thanks to technology, we can be reasonably certain how many items will be on a package car on a given day, and even where those items will be on the car. The end is known. The human element of the loading process is recognizing, pulling, handling, and positioning each of those packages so the driver can easily locate them during delivery. Think of any item you have received from a seller through a delivery company. That is the variety loaders experience daily. They make it fit.

Jumping, or helping, is different. It is about precise dispersal of items from the package car to their designated recipients. Here again, technology is an invaluable tool. Delivery drivers use handheld computers that help them match a package with its addressee, re-route the package if necessary, and note whether it was placed on the front porch, by the garage, or even inside a vehicle when it was delivered. This is the data that will be important to you if you’re tracking delivery online.

Let’s return to the steak analogy. You want your waiter to be dressed presentably. You really don’t fuss much about the appearance of the person cutting that steak from the side of beef. Preloaders and sorters dress casually and comfortably. Their major concern is personal safety. They don’t wear items that can become entangled in moving machinery and they make sure anything heavy that might be dropped will do as little damage as possible. Steel-toed boots take care of that.

To simplify creating a consistent appearance, delivery drivers wear uniforms. This includes black or brown shoes that can be polished. I am no stranger to polishing shoes. I took a six-week course in shoe polishing when I was eighteen. It was a comprehensive course that included ironing, folding, polishing, waxing, buffing, marching, sweating, panting, grumbling, studying, listening, thinking, and wishing I was elsewhere, but shoe polishing was an important part of the curriculum. If you ever consider similar seasonal employment, please recognize that preloading is a poor way to prepare your footwear for public display. Depending upon what role you are assigned, preloading will scuff, soil, and gouge your boots. Delivery will demand that they be presentable to the end customer. I must confess that some days were better than others where my presentation was concerned.

Delivery drivers are the most public face of their companies. More than delivering, they are in the relationship business. I worked with a driver who makes it a point to wave to most of the vehicles we passed on the road. He knows his customers. He not only knows their names, he knows where they work and what vehicle they drive. He goes out of his way to be available to them, sharing his cell phone number and inviting them to call if they need anything at all. He will chat briefly and kid with them. He is a problem solver. He is a trust builder. It pays off. He delivers in semi-rural and rural areas as well as in town. By knowing where people work he often can leave a package at their workplace and save several minutes driving to their homes. Several minutes is not much in a long workday, but doing that for half a dozen people is significant in terms of time saved and in making people feel known and valued. It also yields reciprocity. His customers are flexible and offer to help him when needed, too.

Back to me. What did I get from this experience? I got more than I reckoned on.

I encountered exhaustion. Five to six hours of nearly non-stop movement in early morning hours followed by running from truck to home or business and back challenged me physically. I found things in the shower that I didn’t recall collecting, including bruises, abrasions, and sore muscles. Lots of sore muscles.

I gained renewed confidence. I was one of the oldest people on the loading line and I was also jumping. I was complimented for my work ethic, my energy, and my attention to detail. When I shared my age with a colleague, he told me I don’t move like a person that age. What does that mean? I am not sure either, but classmates--at least in this young man’s mind--some of you do move like a person that age. You may not have to. Just spend a couple of miserable weeks aching and groaning and your body will give in and go along with the program.

I learned I was marginally inspiring. A friend who has also found that his particular skills are not in high demand here told me he admired my humility. He and I were successful in our fields before we relocated. It can be difficult to settle for less than we know we are worth. Truthfully, seasonal work does not pay well. It’s not terrible. It’s more than most entry-level positions. But it won’t buy many of those steak dinners we considered earlier. However, many people pay to go do cardio exercises, resistance training, and weight lifting. I found a way to be paid to do those things.

Six hours in the early morning followed by four to five hours jumping from trucks and dashing to doorsteps is physically wrecking. But the positives outweigh the negatives here, as they do in so many situations. In the bigger picture, we were making commerce possible. For the holidays, we were making young eyes wide with glee and old eyes twinkle because they could bring that joy to their loved ones. We delivered the tools that keep industries operating, the parts that fix a car to keep a single parent employed. I won’t go so far as to say we delivered hope. After all, what we delivered is stuff. But it’s often stuff that makes a difference. I know this work was only temporary, but I am convinced it was work with a seasonal purpose.

© 2015 David L. Colbert