“Wow! You lift all these boxes all day? You must be strong.”
“Of course when you come they give you all the heavy stuff. When the guys come they only have one small box.”
“You must be tough. Even most the guys don’t like this route.”
These are the small sexist comments I have to deal with almost on a daily basis. Yeah, I’m a woman and I do a “man’s job.” That’s because women are capable of doing work traditionally held for men only. Get the fuck over it and stop being condescending shit heads.
When I used to drive semis, almost on a weekly basis, someone would look at my truck and say, “That sure is a big truck.”
Do you think they would say that to a man?
“No, actually, it’s only thirty-eight feet. Most trailers are fifty-two feet. So it’s kinda small,” was what I would reply if I was in a bad mood. Mostly I would ignore them and pretend they didn’t even exist. Incredulously, I’ve had two people make that comment about the package car I was driving. Yes, women can drive. Shocking.
-----
“Are you going to carry that?” said a Hell’s Angel at the Harley shop.
“Carry what?” I replied.
“Those boxes,” he indicated a stack of boxes that I had been loading onto my handcart.
“Um, no. I’m going to roll them on my cart,” I said, in a kinda snotty tone.
“Well, I was just going to offer some help.”
“Why would I need that?”
“Geeze. Some women will slap you for opening a door for them,” he mused.
For the record, I love it when people open the door for me, especially if I’m carrying boxes. He wasn’t offering to be polite, he was implying that women shouldn’t be doing heavy lifting. He can fuck off.
----
“Hello, sir?”
That’s what I often hear when I’m in my truck and someone wants my attention. They assume I am a man because I’m in a truck.
“Yes, sir?”
That’s what I often hear when I walk into a business and I call out to get their attention. They see the brown uniform, the short hair and baseball cap, and assume I’m a man.
“Are you a man or a woman?” asked a man who I had just explained to that I will be out of his way in two-minutes.
I said nothing.
“You’re not going to tell me?”
“I don’t think I should have to help you out with this one.”
“Well, you look like a man, but you sound like a lady.”
No. No I don’t look like a man. And most people who “sir” me correct themselves the second they get a good look at my face. That’s because I have a soft jaw line. And I know my sports-bra bound b-cup is sometimes hard to distinguish in a loose fitting shirt, but they’re noticeable (not that I want people staring). Plus, I have hips, and my hips don’t lie.
But I have never been so angry to be sir-ed as when a pre-load supervisor said it to me the other morning. I was about to leave, but he knocked on my back door to get my attention. I opened the truck back up, and he was walking away.
“Hey! Did you knock on my truck?”
“Yeah, you have Easter flowers.”
He brought boxes of flowers down the line to different trucks. But, why, when we’ve been experiencing layoffs, was he doing the work of a union employee? So I went to find a pre-load steward to put an end to that. As we walked up together, I pointed to the supervisor and the boxes he was sorting. He saw me point.
“What’s your truck number?” the Supervisor asked.
I told him. He looked at the boxes and told me there was nothing for me.
“So you held me up for no reason?”
“Yes, sir.”
Oh, no he didn’t. Most people call me sir because they conform to gender norms, and I confuse them. Women look a certain way and engage in certain activities, but not others. Men look a certain way and engage in certain activities. A baseball cap—that’s men’s attire. Professional driving—that’s man’s domain. But this supervisor wasn’t confused. This was not the first day we ever saw each other. He was mad that I called him out first for handling packages when that’s forbidden by the contract, and then for his mistake in making me wait. So he fired back by using sexism, in combination with homophobia, as a weapon. He wasn’t being condescending, he was being vicious. He doesn’t need to fuck off, he needs to watch his ass.
Friday, April 17, 2009
Friday, April 10, 2009
Just a Silly Story
So, I could write about the hell my customers gave the poor driver who did my route last week. She got all the complaints I did when I started my route, and a couple even flat out yelled at her (I went back to them and told them no more yelling), but you all know about the cranky nature of my customers already.
I could write about the new $500 million investment the company has launched to help “save cost” by finding new ways to fire drivers. But I’m already in a bad mood, so harping on that might work me up to point where I’m a hazard on the road.
So, I’m gonna tell you about a funny story that happened months ago on another route. Before my name came up on the bid list for my current route, I had a temporary bid for someone else’s route. Basically, when another driver owns a route, but is absent (due to injury, alternate work assignment, or some other long term absence) they get to keep their route for when they return, but management will often allow (at the insistence of the union) a temporary bid so a floater driver has a more stable home for awhile.
I loved that other route. The driver came back to it only a few weeks before I was offered my current route. If he hadn’t come back, I would have passed up the other route to keep the temporary bid.
The route was half retail shops along the street (which provided many opportunities to double park and piss people off), and half residential (which provided many opportunities to meet interesting people who often did their best to piss me off). That route was certainly more colorful, and I miss the variety of it. But none of this is the funny part.
I once had a delivery for an empty shop—a shop that had been empty for months with nothing but naked mannequins in the windows. When I saw the boxes for the shop, I did stop to make sure it was still closed. I looked through the glass and saw nothing new—no desk with register, no new merchandise. So sent the boxes back as “address vacant.”
Later in the week, the woman in our office who fields the customer service calls asked me, “Do you remember a delivery for forty-two eighteen ____ Blvd that you sent back as vacant?”
“Yeah,” I replied.
“Why did you think it was vacant?”
“Because there’s nothing in there.”
“Nothing?” she asked. “There weren’t naked mannequins or anything?”
“There were naked mannequins.”
“Do you know why they were naked?” She started to giggle.
“Why?”
“Because you had their clothes in the boxes you sent back.”
Oops.
I could write about the new $500 million investment the company has launched to help “save cost” by finding new ways to fire drivers. But I’m already in a bad mood, so harping on that might work me up to point where I’m a hazard on the road.
So, I’m gonna tell you about a funny story that happened months ago on another route. Before my name came up on the bid list for my current route, I had a temporary bid for someone else’s route. Basically, when another driver owns a route, but is absent (due to injury, alternate work assignment, or some other long term absence) they get to keep their route for when they return, but management will often allow (at the insistence of the union) a temporary bid so a floater driver has a more stable home for awhile.
I loved that other route. The driver came back to it only a few weeks before I was offered my current route. If he hadn’t come back, I would have passed up the other route to keep the temporary bid.
The route was half retail shops along the street (which provided many opportunities to double park and piss people off), and half residential (which provided many opportunities to meet interesting people who often did their best to piss me off). That route was certainly more colorful, and I miss the variety of it. But none of this is the funny part.
I once had a delivery for an empty shop—a shop that had been empty for months with nothing but naked mannequins in the windows. When I saw the boxes for the shop, I did stop to make sure it was still closed. I looked through the glass and saw nothing new—no desk with register, no new merchandise. So sent the boxes back as “address vacant.”
Later in the week, the woman in our office who fields the customer service calls asked me, “Do you remember a delivery for forty-two eighteen ____ Blvd that you sent back as vacant?”
“Yeah,” I replied.
“Why did you think it was vacant?”
“Because there’s nothing in there.”
“Nothing?” she asked. “There weren’t naked mannequins or anything?”
“There were naked mannequins.”
“Do you know why they were naked?” She started to giggle.
“Why?”
“Because you had their clothes in the boxes you sent back.”
Oops.
Friday, April 3, 2009
A couple of updates
Sorry I haven’t been updating my blog. The problem is that now that I know my route well, and my customers like me, and I’m not forced to work unwanted overtime in areas where I get in people’s way or meet interesting people, nothing funny happens to me anymore. Basically, I’m fairly contented with my job, and my customers are fairly contented with me. That’s a good thing, but it makes for boring blog material. Plus, I’ve been on vacation this week, so I’ve been trying not to think about work.
But I do have some updates for you. The first is about my wrist injury. It only took four days before the company caved in. My steward (updates on the steward election next) helped me by talking to the woman in charge of dealing with worker’s comp claims. He told her that I would like a second opinion, and that he had advised me to get a lawyer. Four days later, I got a call from the doctor’s office informing me of a new appointment I had with the hand specialist. When I saw the worker’s comp woman, she explained it to me.
“Basically,” she said, “Dr. _____ said that if you ask ten doctors, five would say it’s industrially related, and five would say it’s not, so since it’s easy to treat, he said let’s go ahead and treat her.”
Wait, that’s it? But I had planned to dig in my heels, line up allies, and have a good ol’ fashioned righteous fight with the company.
Fine, I won’t call a lawyer, but I still insist on seeing my own doctor. I just don’t like the idea of my employer and doctor (who my employer uses on an ongoing basis for worker’s comp claims) colluding about my care. It makes me think that the doctor tries to give favorable outcomes to the company so they continue to choose that practice.
She tried to convince me not see my own doctor:
Gentle manipulation: “Why don’t you just try this specialist first and see if you like him.”
Scare tactics: “The problem I’ve run into with outside doctors is that they don’t submit reports in a timely manner and it delays payments and such for you if you end up off work.”
Intimidation: “Well, tell me why you don’t want to see Dr._____.”
Now, I don’t have to tell her that. It shouldn’t matter. She shouldn’t be asking. But I told her that I wanted someone neutral.
“He is neutral,” she tried to convince me. “He has his own practice and only comes to [this office] once a week.”
Any doctor hired by the company is a company doctor to me. I won’t ever be falling into that trap again.
Now, for the steward elections. My guy lost by one vote. The driver who won, was the other guy I considered supporting. He and I had many conversations over the weeks leading up to the election. I must have made an impression on him because as soon as the results were in, he called me and invited me to be his alternate steward. I had no idea he had planned to do that.
But alas, the final decision is up to our Business Agent (BA) because alternate stewards are actually appointed by him, not the steward. He just usually appoints who the stewards want to work with. My steward told me right away that the BA was not happy with him choosing me, but that he was still going to push for me because he felt we need strong leadership and we need women in power. We have one African American official on our Local leadership board, the rest are aging white men. He thinks that’s a problem, and feels we need more diversity in leadership. I like the way he thinks.
But I can be contentious (surprise!). I bring up topics the leadership would prefer not to deal with. And quite frankly, I challenge the union bureaucracy, and the BA relies on that Bureaucracy. So elevating my leadership status is threatening to the BA. And he finally won. My steward called me a couple days ago and said he was tired of arguing over my appointment. He felt that if he continued to demand me as alternate steward he would not have the support he needed from the BA when it came to fighting grievances, etc.
“But I’m still going to train you. I still want to work with you. Eventually the contract will be up and there will be another election and opportunity for you. And I still think we need women leaders,” he assured me.
He has chosen another woman driver to be his alternate. Someone who I think will do an excellent job because she already speaks up for drivers.
I would have liked to be the alternate, but the important thing is that I’ve already established myself as a leader among some of the drivers. I’ve earned their respect, and I’ve strengthened our working relationship. As this economic crisis deepens, management will crack down on us harder and harder. It will take a cohesive and strong rank and file response to protect us. We can build that in our workplace despite our BA.
But I do have some updates for you. The first is about my wrist injury. It only took four days before the company caved in. My steward (updates on the steward election next) helped me by talking to the woman in charge of dealing with worker’s comp claims. He told her that I would like a second opinion, and that he had advised me to get a lawyer. Four days later, I got a call from the doctor’s office informing me of a new appointment I had with the hand specialist. When I saw the worker’s comp woman, she explained it to me.
“Basically,” she said, “Dr. _____ said that if you ask ten doctors, five would say it’s industrially related, and five would say it’s not, so since it’s easy to treat, he said let’s go ahead and treat her.”
Wait, that’s it? But I had planned to dig in my heels, line up allies, and have a good ol’ fashioned righteous fight with the company.
Fine, I won’t call a lawyer, but I still insist on seeing my own doctor. I just don’t like the idea of my employer and doctor (who my employer uses on an ongoing basis for worker’s comp claims) colluding about my care. It makes me think that the doctor tries to give favorable outcomes to the company so they continue to choose that practice.
She tried to convince me not see my own doctor:
Gentle manipulation: “Why don’t you just try this specialist first and see if you like him.”
Scare tactics: “The problem I’ve run into with outside doctors is that they don’t submit reports in a timely manner and it delays payments and such for you if you end up off work.”
Intimidation: “Well, tell me why you don’t want to see Dr._____.”
Now, I don’t have to tell her that. It shouldn’t matter. She shouldn’t be asking. But I told her that I wanted someone neutral.
“He is neutral,” she tried to convince me. “He has his own practice and only comes to [this office] once a week.”
Any doctor hired by the company is a company doctor to me. I won’t ever be falling into that trap again.
Now, for the steward elections. My guy lost by one vote. The driver who won, was the other guy I considered supporting. He and I had many conversations over the weeks leading up to the election. I must have made an impression on him because as soon as the results were in, he called me and invited me to be his alternate steward. I had no idea he had planned to do that.
But alas, the final decision is up to our Business Agent (BA) because alternate stewards are actually appointed by him, not the steward. He just usually appoints who the stewards want to work with. My steward told me right away that the BA was not happy with him choosing me, but that he was still going to push for me because he felt we need strong leadership and we need women in power. We have one African American official on our Local leadership board, the rest are aging white men. He thinks that’s a problem, and feels we need more diversity in leadership. I like the way he thinks.
But I can be contentious (surprise!). I bring up topics the leadership would prefer not to deal with. And quite frankly, I challenge the union bureaucracy, and the BA relies on that Bureaucracy. So elevating my leadership status is threatening to the BA. And he finally won. My steward called me a couple days ago and said he was tired of arguing over my appointment. He felt that if he continued to demand me as alternate steward he would not have the support he needed from the BA when it came to fighting grievances, etc.
“But I’m still going to train you. I still want to work with you. Eventually the contract will be up and there will be another election and opportunity for you. And I still think we need women leaders,” he assured me.
He has chosen another woman driver to be his alternate. Someone who I think will do an excellent job because she already speaks up for drivers.
I would have liked to be the alternate, but the important thing is that I’ve already established myself as a leader among some of the drivers. I’ve earned their respect, and I’ve strengthened our working relationship. As this economic crisis deepens, management will crack down on us harder and harder. It will take a cohesive and strong rank and file response to protect us. We can build that in our workplace despite our BA.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
A Battle I Don't Want
Yesterday marked the beginning of two battles. One good, one bad.
I’ll begin with the good news. Steward elections have finally officially begun. A nomination sheet went up in our center and the voting will happen on Friday. I decided to support the guy who asked me to be his alternate. Although, no matter who wins, I think we’ll be in good hands. I just know that one day I want to be a steward, so if I think there is more than one good candidate, it makes sense to support the one who will support me back and help teach me.
Now, the bad news. I’ve have been getting treatment for a worker’s comp injury for a few months now. My wrist has been hurting me for about three years, and I finally told someone last October. I’ve been through two rounds of physical therapy and the pain has just never gone away. So last week they did an MRI and found a ganglion cyst.
My doctor, who is the company’s choice of a doctor, immediately told me that ganglions can form in anyone for any reason, so it’s not industrially caused and released me from worker’s comp.
But as someone I know who works in HR for another company told me, “That’s bullshit.” I know people both at UPS and in other companies who have been treated for ganglion cysts through worker’s comp. There may be many reasons a person develops a cyst, but I’ve been doing some Googling, and as it turns out, people who put repeated stress on their hands are at increased risk. One website sited gymnasts as an example of a population who frequently gets these. I imagine I put just as much stress on my wrist as a gymnast does.
Not only that, but the pain increases when I’m working. One of the treatment options is to do nothing. Because of my job, that’s not an option for me.
So I’m starting with a second opinion, and then I’ll move on to finding a lawyer.
Of course, if we had single-payer health care in this country, this wouldn't be an issue. Come on Obama, where's my change? Oh, wait, single-payer isn't on the table.
I’ll begin with the good news. Steward elections have finally officially begun. A nomination sheet went up in our center and the voting will happen on Friday. I decided to support the guy who asked me to be his alternate. Although, no matter who wins, I think we’ll be in good hands. I just know that one day I want to be a steward, so if I think there is more than one good candidate, it makes sense to support the one who will support me back and help teach me.
Now, the bad news. I’ve have been getting treatment for a worker’s comp injury for a few months now. My wrist has been hurting me for about three years, and I finally told someone last October. I’ve been through two rounds of physical therapy and the pain has just never gone away. So last week they did an MRI and found a ganglion cyst.
My doctor, who is the company’s choice of a doctor, immediately told me that ganglions can form in anyone for any reason, so it’s not industrially caused and released me from worker’s comp.
But as someone I know who works in HR for another company told me, “That’s bullshit.” I know people both at UPS and in other companies who have been treated for ganglion cysts through worker’s comp. There may be many reasons a person develops a cyst, but I’ve been doing some Googling, and as it turns out, people who put repeated stress on their hands are at increased risk. One website sited gymnasts as an example of a population who frequently gets these. I imagine I put just as much stress on my wrist as a gymnast does.
Not only that, but the pain increases when I’m working. One of the treatment options is to do nothing. Because of my job, that’s not an option for me.
So I’m starting with a second opinion, and then I’ll move on to finding a lawyer.
Of course, if we had single-payer health care in this country, this wouldn't be an issue. Come on Obama, where's my change? Oh, wait, single-payer isn't on the table.
Friday, March 13, 2009
Making Them Love Me
I returned to work yesterday after a two day absence, and I knew something wrong must have happened when my supervisor told me, “We miss you when you’re not here.”
“Thank you,” is what I said.
Ok, that’s weird, is what I thought.
But it wasn’t just my sup who was relieved to see me. I arrived at my first customer, who is always my first stop of the day.
“I only have three for you today,” I said, which is also weird since usually he has 10 or more.
“At least it’s here at a decent time. Yesterday we didn’t get our stuff until 4:30. I asked the driver, ‘Are these deliveries for tomorrow.’”
I laughed with the customer, but felt the frustration of the driver who had to put up that kind of comment after dealing with a shitty day.
Only three stops later, I had another comment.
“JD! You’re back! Hey, are we on your list of pick-ups?”
“No, somehow you got deleted out of it. I’ve been trying to fix it, but I think I’ve been talking to the wrong person.”
“Yeah, you know to stop, but that other guy—I had to track him down.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault,” he said, assuring me he wasn’t angry with me.
“Yeah, it’s not his fault either. I’ll make sure it gets fixed.”
Only two stops after that, I asked my usual polite question, “Hey, how’s it going?” expecting the usual response.
But what I heard instead was, “Great, now that you’re back.”
And later another customer: “Where have you been? It’s been a mess.”
Another customer: “Oh, good. You’re here early. The other driver was getting here late.”
Another customer: “Oh, good, our taxes! This package was given, and this wasn’t you, I know, but it was given by the other driver to the wrong address, I think across the street.”
“Oh no, I’m sorry.”
“Well it’s not your fault, but blah blah blah blah blah blah.”
“Wow, that’s annoying. I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, it’s not your fault it’s just blah blah blah blah blah.”
“Right, well, I’m glad we could get it back for you, sorry it’s late.”
“Well,” she said still looking disappointed for some reason, “It’s not your fault.”
“Ok, have a nice day.”
Still another customer said to me, “We needed a pick-up yesterday and the driver never came.”
“Oh, no. Did you call it in?” This customer does not pay for everyday pick-up service.
“Yeah, I called the one-eight-hundred number.”
“Wow. I’m sorry.”
“Well, it’s not you’re fault, but it was next day air for the East coast, and blah blah blah blah blah.”
“Oh geeze, I’m really sorry.”
“Well, I’m going to have something going out today.”
“I will definitely be back to pick it up.” And thankfully, I remembered to do that.
I haven’t heard these people complain this much since I first started the route. Management sent a driver out cold. It’s not uncommon to be thrown out on route that we’ve never seen before, but generally, on a route like mine, they’ll send a supervisor to help train. This probably is no consolation for my customers, but that poor driver most definitely had a shittier two days than all of them combined.
And even though I had to deal with complaints all day, it sure felt good not to be the one complained about. Do they remember how much they hated me? That’s all over now. All I had to do was take a couple days off when they didn’t have a cover driver who knew the route.
So now my customers love me, and I love the route. I haven’t said this before because I didn’t want to jinx it (nothing is ever guaranteed or permanent at Big Brown), but I got management to take off the residential stops on my truck. I only work eight hours a day now! I’m actually looking forward to going to work today.
“Thank you,” is what I said.
Ok, that’s weird, is what I thought.
But it wasn’t just my sup who was relieved to see me. I arrived at my first customer, who is always my first stop of the day.
“I only have three for you today,” I said, which is also weird since usually he has 10 or more.
“At least it’s here at a decent time. Yesterday we didn’t get our stuff until 4:30. I asked the driver, ‘Are these deliveries for tomorrow.’”
I laughed with the customer, but felt the frustration of the driver who had to put up that kind of comment after dealing with a shitty day.
Only three stops later, I had another comment.
“JD! You’re back! Hey, are we on your list of pick-ups?”
“No, somehow you got deleted out of it. I’ve been trying to fix it, but I think I’ve been talking to the wrong person.”
“Yeah, you know to stop, but that other guy—I had to track him down.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault,” he said, assuring me he wasn’t angry with me.
“Yeah, it’s not his fault either. I’ll make sure it gets fixed.”
Only two stops after that, I asked my usual polite question, “Hey, how’s it going?” expecting the usual response.
But what I heard instead was, “Great, now that you’re back.”
And later another customer: “Where have you been? It’s been a mess.”
Another customer: “Oh, good. You’re here early. The other driver was getting here late.”
Another customer: “Oh, good, our taxes! This package was given, and this wasn’t you, I know, but it was given by the other driver to the wrong address, I think across the street.”
“Oh no, I’m sorry.”
“Well it’s not your fault, but blah blah blah blah blah blah.”
“Wow, that’s annoying. I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, it’s not your fault it’s just blah blah blah blah blah.”
“Right, well, I’m glad we could get it back for you, sorry it’s late.”
“Well,” she said still looking disappointed for some reason, “It’s not your fault.”
“Ok, have a nice day.”
Still another customer said to me, “We needed a pick-up yesterday and the driver never came.”
“Oh, no. Did you call it in?” This customer does not pay for everyday pick-up service.
“Yeah, I called the one-eight-hundred number.”
“Wow. I’m sorry.”
“Well, it’s not you’re fault, but it was next day air for the East coast, and blah blah blah blah blah.”
“Oh geeze, I’m really sorry.”
“Well, I’m going to have something going out today.”
“I will definitely be back to pick it up.” And thankfully, I remembered to do that.
I haven’t heard these people complain this much since I first started the route. Management sent a driver out cold. It’s not uncommon to be thrown out on route that we’ve never seen before, but generally, on a route like mine, they’ll send a supervisor to help train. This probably is no consolation for my customers, but that poor driver most definitely had a shittier two days than all of them combined.
And even though I had to deal with complaints all day, it sure felt good not to be the one complained about. Do they remember how much they hated me? That’s all over now. All I had to do was take a couple days off when they didn’t have a cover driver who knew the route.
So now my customers love me, and I love the route. I haven’t said this before because I didn’t want to jinx it (nothing is ever guaranteed or permanent at Big Brown), but I got management to take off the residential stops on my truck. I only work eight hours a day now! I’m actually looking forward to going to work today.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
a union dilema
One side effect of the downsizing on my building is that we lost a center. We had 4 centers—each covering a different city or area, and to cut management costs, they decided to merge them into 3 centers. For the union, this means we need to have new steward elections.
I’ve only been driving for 4½ years, but I’m fairly active in the union. I ran last time we had steward elections and got my ass kicked. Winning wasn’t my objective though. I just wanted to put myself out there as a union activist.
This time around, the nomination sheets haven’t even been posted and I’m being courted by three drivers.
The first one to ask for my support is someone who is critical of the union bureaucracy and was steward before I started working there, so I don’t know first hand how he works, but from rumors, he has a good record. I thought he would be the person I supported, but in consequent conversations, he has been dismissive of my arguments around rank and file power to take on both the union and company. He keeps talking about how no one got fired when he was steward and his record filing grievances. Those things are important, but what I’ve tried to impress on him and my other co-workers is that in this economic crisis, the company will be coming down hard on us, and we need to shove back whether or not we have official approval from the Local leadership. We need to look beyond just the grievance procedure.
The other two have been more open to the idea that this is a new period requiring new tactics from us. Eventually, the company will want to re-open the contract, and when that happens, we can’t rely on the International to fight with the tenacity we need to resist concessions. We need to be ready to take action.
The next driver who asked for my support actually requested I be his alternate steward. We would run as a slate. Since I don’t feel confident to run for steward myself (the company would know I am inexperienced and walk all over me), learning the ropes as an alternate makes sense. At first though, I didn’t want to support this driver because he doesn’t come to work all that often. He was the alternate before, and he was gone on injury a lot. He also was on the safety committee which allowed him to sit in the office while the rest of us broke our backs delivering packages. The union has set a rule saying you have to be steward to be on safety committee. Could it be he just wants to be steward to remain on safety committee?
But when he was around, he was actually the steward I wanted to talk to. He was more responsive than the head steward and even though he didn’t actually file the grievances (because the head steward wanted to control them), he would confront management for me much more readily. And, I like some of the ideas he has of using the morning meetings to announce union stuff. He also agrees with me that we don’t have to wait for our business agent to call a driver meeting.
Plus, he was flattering when he asked me to run with him. He likes what I bring to the table, knows I go to the meetings and am active in the union, I think outside the box and have a lot to offer. Plus, I’m a woman. I bring a different dynamic and perspective that will be important for the members. These are all things he said. Which makes me believe he is sincere. So I agreed.
But that was when I thought there were only two people in the running. A third driver’s hat is in the ring. He was the steward from the other center we merged with. I originally was told he was not going to run again because he was going to start working with the International. Apparently, that was just rumor. He has a good track record and is respected by his drivers. He also has a broader vision of the labor movement. Not only does he agree that we need a driver meeting and that we don’t need to wait for the BA to call it, he knows we need to ask the drivers about what their issues are and come up with a good agenda so that we actually accomplish something at the meeting. He’s been active in organizing drives with the Local. The philosophy he espoused to me is that he can’t be steward by himself. He needs a team of people, like me, who will be active and support him. My support would be welcome because he knows he wouldn’t have to pull teeth to get me to meetings and such. He, too, seems sincere.
What the hell do I do?
I’ve only been driving for 4½ years, but I’m fairly active in the union. I ran last time we had steward elections and got my ass kicked. Winning wasn’t my objective though. I just wanted to put myself out there as a union activist.
This time around, the nomination sheets haven’t even been posted and I’m being courted by three drivers.
The first one to ask for my support is someone who is critical of the union bureaucracy and was steward before I started working there, so I don’t know first hand how he works, but from rumors, he has a good record. I thought he would be the person I supported, but in consequent conversations, he has been dismissive of my arguments around rank and file power to take on both the union and company. He keeps talking about how no one got fired when he was steward and his record filing grievances. Those things are important, but what I’ve tried to impress on him and my other co-workers is that in this economic crisis, the company will be coming down hard on us, and we need to shove back whether or not we have official approval from the Local leadership. We need to look beyond just the grievance procedure.
The other two have been more open to the idea that this is a new period requiring new tactics from us. Eventually, the company will want to re-open the contract, and when that happens, we can’t rely on the International to fight with the tenacity we need to resist concessions. We need to be ready to take action.
The next driver who asked for my support actually requested I be his alternate steward. We would run as a slate. Since I don’t feel confident to run for steward myself (the company would know I am inexperienced and walk all over me), learning the ropes as an alternate makes sense. At first though, I didn’t want to support this driver because he doesn’t come to work all that often. He was the alternate before, and he was gone on injury a lot. He also was on the safety committee which allowed him to sit in the office while the rest of us broke our backs delivering packages. The union has set a rule saying you have to be steward to be on safety committee. Could it be he just wants to be steward to remain on safety committee?
But when he was around, he was actually the steward I wanted to talk to. He was more responsive than the head steward and even though he didn’t actually file the grievances (because the head steward wanted to control them), he would confront management for me much more readily. And, I like some of the ideas he has of using the morning meetings to announce union stuff. He also agrees with me that we don’t have to wait for our business agent to call a driver meeting.
Plus, he was flattering when he asked me to run with him. He likes what I bring to the table, knows I go to the meetings and am active in the union, I think outside the box and have a lot to offer. Plus, I’m a woman. I bring a different dynamic and perspective that will be important for the members. These are all things he said. Which makes me believe he is sincere. So I agreed.
But that was when I thought there were only two people in the running. A third driver’s hat is in the ring. He was the steward from the other center we merged with. I originally was told he was not going to run again because he was going to start working with the International. Apparently, that was just rumor. He has a good track record and is respected by his drivers. He also has a broader vision of the labor movement. Not only does he agree that we need a driver meeting and that we don’t need to wait for the BA to call it, he knows we need to ask the drivers about what their issues are and come up with a good agenda so that we actually accomplish something at the meeting. He’s been active in organizing drives with the Local. The philosophy he espoused to me is that he can’t be steward by himself. He needs a team of people, like me, who will be active and support him. My support would be welcome because he knows he wouldn’t have to pull teeth to get me to meetings and such. He, too, seems sincere.
What the hell do I do?
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Lay offs
Last Saturday, I ran into a man from our Business Development (BD) department. BD is responsible for finding and keeping new customers. They have created “project lead” to encourage drivers to talk to customers who currently ship with the competition about switching to Big Brown. If we submit info from a company that starts to ship with us, we get a monetary bonus—the more they ship, the more we get for 3 months.
After BD guy and I exchanged pleasantries, he said, “So drivers are being laid off. Do you think you all will be more motivated to find new sales leads and grow the business?”
“No.”
He looked surprised and disappointed. “Why not? Why wouldn’t drivers want to secure their jobs by finding new business?”
“One, because there aren’t a lot of new opportunities cropping up. And two, because it won’t make a difference. Drivers are still over dispatched. We think the best way to prevent more layoffs is by stopping the over dispatching, and putting more trucks on the road. I mean, last Wednesday I got a call from my sup asking if I wanted the day off. I said no, and later that afternoon I was asked if I wanted to help someone who couldn’t finish their route. Why send drivers home when others have so much work they can’t even finish?”
“Well,” he said in an apologetic tone, “It’s all about the numbers. The company wants us to run numbers that will help us stay profitable. We have to answer to the investors.”
He rattled off that answer thinking I would see the common sense in it. Instead, I challenged him. “Why are you more worried about investors than the workers? We’re the ones who produce the profit in the first place.”
He nodded in an unsettled manner. Finally, he decided a change of topic was in order, he reached for the flyer I had been handing out to people, “So what’s this event your advertising? Who is Howard Zinn?”
Oh, the logic of Wall Street. When he says “stay profitable” he means fewer trucks equals less gas and maintenance, and fewer drivers means less benefits to pay. It’s cheaper to pay overtime. So some drivers must be overworked, so that others can be laid off.
There are many backwards aspects about Capitalism, the most glaring being the prioritization of profits above all else. The current crisis has exposed this fact in no uncertain terms.
But here’s the twisted thing, Big Brown has stayed profitable so far. In 2008, revenue was up 3.6%, and they raked in $829 million in the 4th quarter alone. To be fair, volume has fallen dramatically, so profits have declined causing stock prices to decrease also. So share holders want to know what the company is doing to minimize profit loss. What they are doing is violating the contract by eliminating full time jobs (forcing people into part time work only), and laying off drivers. This makes sound business sense, but is a disaster for the families affected.
This brings me to the question of what do I work for? Of course I work because otherwise I would be starving and homeless (Capitalism is a system that withholds everything unless you pay money for it, otherwise no profit could be made). But I do not work for me and my family. If that were the case, I would deliver at least 100 fewer packages a day and never work a minute over 8 hours, no, make that 7 hours, a day. Nor do I work for you. The service I provide is secondary to the main goal. I work so other people can get rich—the bosses, the shareholders, they all benefit from paying me less money than my labor produces. That is why I work, that is why you work, that is why we get laid off even when there is plenty of work that could be done. If our labor isn’t making a profit, what is our labor good for?
Unfortunately, the Union also accepts this logic. At the threat of layoffs, they sent around a handout for advice. They didn’t call us all into a meeting to address the problem and come up with a solution. They wrote up a flyer. Advice point number one? Accept a layoff. Two? Get on the 9.5 grievance. The 9.5 grievance still allows them to work us past 9.5 hours two days a week, so technically they could force 12.5 hours of overtime on a driver in a week without paying penalties. The last point? We have seniority over inside jobs, so we can take one of those. I wonder what the union’s advice was for the loaders.
Of course, BD guy’s advice is to find more sales leads, but that just sounds like more work for me when I already have more than I can handle.
My solution? Well, short of the advice given by Marx in the Communist Manifesto, there are still actions we could take to alleviate some of the impact today. Work-to-rule tactics can be tried. Solidarity rallies can be held with other unions to embarrass and pressure the employers. Anything that involves rank and file militancy to shift the balance of power from the bosses to the workers. If you have any concrete ideas, I’d love to hear them.
http://makeupsdeliver.org/news.php?extend.205
http://socialistworker.org/2009/02/16/return-of-marx
After BD guy and I exchanged pleasantries, he said, “So drivers are being laid off. Do you think you all will be more motivated to find new sales leads and grow the business?”
“No.”
He looked surprised and disappointed. “Why not? Why wouldn’t drivers want to secure their jobs by finding new business?”
“One, because there aren’t a lot of new opportunities cropping up. And two, because it won’t make a difference. Drivers are still over dispatched. We think the best way to prevent more layoffs is by stopping the over dispatching, and putting more trucks on the road. I mean, last Wednesday I got a call from my sup asking if I wanted the day off. I said no, and later that afternoon I was asked if I wanted to help someone who couldn’t finish their route. Why send drivers home when others have so much work they can’t even finish?”
“Well,” he said in an apologetic tone, “It’s all about the numbers. The company wants us to run numbers that will help us stay profitable. We have to answer to the investors.”
He rattled off that answer thinking I would see the common sense in it. Instead, I challenged him. “Why are you more worried about investors than the workers? We’re the ones who produce the profit in the first place.”
He nodded in an unsettled manner. Finally, he decided a change of topic was in order, he reached for the flyer I had been handing out to people, “So what’s this event your advertising? Who is Howard Zinn?”
Oh, the logic of Wall Street. When he says “stay profitable” he means fewer trucks equals less gas and maintenance, and fewer drivers means less benefits to pay. It’s cheaper to pay overtime. So some drivers must be overworked, so that others can be laid off.
There are many backwards aspects about Capitalism, the most glaring being the prioritization of profits above all else. The current crisis has exposed this fact in no uncertain terms.
But here’s the twisted thing, Big Brown has stayed profitable so far. In 2008, revenue was up 3.6%, and they raked in $829 million in the 4th quarter alone. To be fair, volume has fallen dramatically, so profits have declined causing stock prices to decrease also. So share holders want to know what the company is doing to minimize profit loss. What they are doing is violating the contract by eliminating full time jobs (forcing people into part time work only), and laying off drivers. This makes sound business sense, but is a disaster for the families affected.
This brings me to the question of what do I work for? Of course I work because otherwise I would be starving and homeless (Capitalism is a system that withholds everything unless you pay money for it, otherwise no profit could be made). But I do not work for me and my family. If that were the case, I would deliver at least 100 fewer packages a day and never work a minute over 8 hours, no, make that 7 hours, a day. Nor do I work for you. The service I provide is secondary to the main goal. I work so other people can get rich—the bosses, the shareholders, they all benefit from paying me less money than my labor produces. That is why I work, that is why you work, that is why we get laid off even when there is plenty of work that could be done. If our labor isn’t making a profit, what is our labor good for?
Unfortunately, the Union also accepts this logic. At the threat of layoffs, they sent around a handout for advice. They didn’t call us all into a meeting to address the problem and come up with a solution. They wrote up a flyer. Advice point number one? Accept a layoff. Two? Get on the 9.5 grievance. The 9.5 grievance still allows them to work us past 9.5 hours two days a week, so technically they could force 12.5 hours of overtime on a driver in a week without paying penalties. The last point? We have seniority over inside jobs, so we can take one of those. I wonder what the union’s advice was for the loaders.
Of course, BD guy’s advice is to find more sales leads, but that just sounds like more work for me when I already have more than I can handle.
My solution? Well, short of the advice given by Marx in the Communist Manifesto, there are still actions we could take to alleviate some of the impact today. Work-to-rule tactics can be tried. Solidarity rallies can be held with other unions to embarrass and pressure the employers. Anything that involves rank and file militancy to shift the balance of power from the bosses to the workers. If you have any concrete ideas, I’d love to hear them.
http://makeupsdeliver.org/news.php?extend.205
http://socialistworker.org/2009/02/16/return-of-marx
Friday, February 6, 2009
It's 30 seconds of your life, get over it
So, having failed at getting management to remove the residential stops from my truck, I’m forced to be in people’s neighborhoods from about 5 to 7 in the evening. This unfortunate timing means I am a giant obstacle for people getting home. Nothing is more annoying than almost being at your doorstep after work and not quite being able to reach it, I admit. But I still have to do my job.
When I can, I always leave space for cars to get by, and the incident I’m writing about is no exception. But the street was so narrow that only a compact car could squeeze through. So when cranky guy in a large pick-up pulled up, he was not happy. As I opened my bulk-head door to grab the package, he honked.
Lesson one: Honking is ok, there are actually times I don’t notice you and there may be a way to alleviate your anxiety by moving. However, one short beep will do it, and if I don’t move after that, you’re out of luck. Any subsequent honking will be ignored, and serve only the purpose of pissing everyone else off as you blow off steam.
This particular honk I ignored because in order to move out of his way, I would have had to drive halfway down the block which was too far from my delivery point.
As I exited my vehicle, he exited his.
“You can’t do that. You can’t block the street.”
“I didn’t, Sir, there’s space there for cars to get by.”
“There sure isn’t.” He pulled out his cell phone and started taking pictures. By this time, I had already placed the package on the customer’s porch and was halfway back to my truck.
“Taking pictures of the space I left?”
“I’m getting proof. I have your license plate number, too, and I will talk to your supervisor.”
“Go right ahead sir,” I told him as I stepped in.
“Oh, I will.”
The entire stop lasted maybe—maybe—a minute, but probably, more like 45 seconds.
Lesson 2: I didn’t park here just to piss you off, in fact, I never knew you existed.
If that 45 seconds of inconvenience is worth another 15 minutes of listening to recordings and being on hold with the customer service department only find out the company has no way for him to download his photos, nor does he get to speak directly with my supervisor, who am I to judge. Just about all he can do with those photos now is post them on his blog so that someone out there knows just what kind of injustice he has to put up with in the world.
His friends will rally around him and express indignation and outrage on his behalf, and I have another silly story about a petty motorist who has no appreciation for the job I do. So clearly, the benefits are mutual and seemingly endless, but this is not why I blocked the road. If I never double parked, I would never finish my day. It’s 30 seconds, get over it.
Lesson 3: You don’t fool me.
This wronged man was probably bluffing. He’ll realize it’s not worth his time to actually complain. I’ve seen it before. I once had a guy act like he was calling Big Brown right then and there to complain. After five seconds on the phone he started yelling into his phone, “Your driver is blocking the street and says she’ll stay there as long as she wants!”
Here, even though I knew he couldn’t be talking with a live person so quickly unless he actually had my supervisor’s cell phone on speed dial, I had to correct him, “No sir, I said I would be here as long as it takes, not as long as I want.” Then he gave up the pretext of complaining to the company to scream at me some more.
The point is, I know 99% of people who threaten to call, won’t
Lesson 4: You don’t scare me.
The following is what happens when someone calls in a complaint:
i) Angry person talks to a customer service rep who pretends to care.
ii) Customer service rep types out concern on computer, and sends it to appropriate management team
iii) Management team prints out concern and either calls me into the office and says, “Did this happen?” and I say, “I don’t recall.” And they say, “Well we just wanted to bring it to your attention.” And I say, “Ok.” Or, they simply place the concern on my clip, I read it, and then throw it out.
So, be my guest and call.
When I can, I always leave space for cars to get by, and the incident I’m writing about is no exception. But the street was so narrow that only a compact car could squeeze through. So when cranky guy in a large pick-up pulled up, he was not happy. As I opened my bulk-head door to grab the package, he honked.
Lesson one: Honking is ok, there are actually times I don’t notice you and there may be a way to alleviate your anxiety by moving. However, one short beep will do it, and if I don’t move after that, you’re out of luck. Any subsequent honking will be ignored, and serve only the purpose of pissing everyone else off as you blow off steam.
This particular honk I ignored because in order to move out of his way, I would have had to drive halfway down the block which was too far from my delivery point.
As I exited my vehicle, he exited his.
“You can’t do that. You can’t block the street.”
“I didn’t, Sir, there’s space there for cars to get by.”
“There sure isn’t.” He pulled out his cell phone and started taking pictures. By this time, I had already placed the package on the customer’s porch and was halfway back to my truck.
“Taking pictures of the space I left?”
“I’m getting proof. I have your license plate number, too, and I will talk to your supervisor.”
“Go right ahead sir,” I told him as I stepped in.
“Oh, I will.”
The entire stop lasted maybe—maybe—a minute, but probably, more like 45 seconds.
Lesson 2: I didn’t park here just to piss you off, in fact, I never knew you existed.
If that 45 seconds of inconvenience is worth another 15 minutes of listening to recordings and being on hold with the customer service department only find out the company has no way for him to download his photos, nor does he get to speak directly with my supervisor, who am I to judge. Just about all he can do with those photos now is post them on his blog so that someone out there knows just what kind of injustice he has to put up with in the world.
His friends will rally around him and express indignation and outrage on his behalf, and I have another silly story about a petty motorist who has no appreciation for the job I do. So clearly, the benefits are mutual and seemingly endless, but this is not why I blocked the road. If I never double parked, I would never finish my day. It’s 30 seconds, get over it.
Lesson 3: You don’t fool me.
This wronged man was probably bluffing. He’ll realize it’s not worth his time to actually complain. I’ve seen it before. I once had a guy act like he was calling Big Brown right then and there to complain. After five seconds on the phone he started yelling into his phone, “Your driver is blocking the street and says she’ll stay there as long as she wants!”
Here, even though I knew he couldn’t be talking with a live person so quickly unless he actually had my supervisor’s cell phone on speed dial, I had to correct him, “No sir, I said I would be here as long as it takes, not as long as I want.” Then he gave up the pretext of complaining to the company to scream at me some more.
The point is, I know 99% of people who threaten to call, won’t
Lesson 4: You don’t scare me.
The following is what happens when someone calls in a complaint:
i) Angry person talks to a customer service rep who pretends to care.
ii) Customer service rep types out concern on computer, and sends it to appropriate management team
iii) Management team prints out concern and either calls me into the office and says, “Did this happen?” and I say, “I don’t recall.” And they say, “Well we just wanted to bring it to your attention.” And I say, “Ok.” Or, they simply place the concern on my clip, I read it, and then throw it out.
So, be my guest and call.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Forget the money, give me your luck
Monday was Chinese New Year. I celebrate the holiday much like 4th of July: by calming my dog down every time firecrackers explode from around the neighborhood. And every once in a while, a customer will reward me by closing for the day (and—this is the important part—leaving a nice big sign readable from the street that says, “Closed for Chinese New Year,” so I don’t have to get out of the truck with their packages). But this year, one customer actually handed over a little red envelope, and inside was $5. She stumbled over the Chinese phrase her boss had taught her, and told me to spend the money anytime, but keep the envelope all year for luck.
Tips are not standard for package car drivers, but that only makes them all the more appreciated when we receive them. They are most the time unexpected, and they somehow leave me feeling weirdly validated. Although, at this point, it’s the luck I need.
I’ve been told my new route is a gold mine at Christmas, but considering how many complaints I’m still getting on a daily basis, I’m not getting my hopes up. It’s no exaggeration to say that not a day has gone by since I’ve started my new route when I haven’t gotten a complaint. At this point the whining is not only feeding my propensity for self-righteousness, but also my low self-esteem. Let’s all take a moment to be glad that I don’t have children to be the recipients of my displacement.
And my management team has offered me almost zero support (surprise!). I’ve given them many suggestions of how things can be changed to run smoother for me, but all I get is resistance. For instance, I’ve been told the last driver left early. So I asked for an earlier start time (8:15 instead of 8:30). Nope. My truck is filled down the middle everyday so I can’t walk in it which makes it difficult (not to mention unsafe) to work in and slows me down. It’s a fight every morning to find the packages I’m looking for. A typical truck goes out with 200 to 250 packages a day. My piece count has been hovering around 350. So I’ve asked for a larger truck to help both me and my loader. Nope. How about taking the residential stops off the truck so I can use the space in the truck for business stops? It would help to have extra room to sort through packages. Hell No.
How about I go about what I’ve been doing: pissing off customers by getting there later than they would like, and then calling you all for help when I can’t finish my business, causing you to frantically look for someone to take stops off me because I can’t finish them all before 5:00. OK.
Great. Now I feel weirdly invalidated.
What’s the lesson here?
It’s going to take a lot of red envelopes to provide the luck I need in order to charm my customers by December.
Tips are not standard for package car drivers, but that only makes them all the more appreciated when we receive them. They are most the time unexpected, and they somehow leave me feeling weirdly validated. Although, at this point, it’s the luck I need.
I’ve been told my new route is a gold mine at Christmas, but considering how many complaints I’m still getting on a daily basis, I’m not getting my hopes up. It’s no exaggeration to say that not a day has gone by since I’ve started my new route when I haven’t gotten a complaint. At this point the whining is not only feeding my propensity for self-righteousness, but also my low self-esteem. Let’s all take a moment to be glad that I don’t have children to be the recipients of my displacement.
And my management team has offered me almost zero support (surprise!). I’ve given them many suggestions of how things can be changed to run smoother for me, but all I get is resistance. For instance, I’ve been told the last driver left early. So I asked for an earlier start time (8:15 instead of 8:30). Nope. My truck is filled down the middle everyday so I can’t walk in it which makes it difficult (not to mention unsafe) to work in and slows me down. It’s a fight every morning to find the packages I’m looking for. A typical truck goes out with 200 to 250 packages a day. My piece count has been hovering around 350. So I’ve asked for a larger truck to help both me and my loader. Nope. How about taking the residential stops off the truck so I can use the space in the truck for business stops? It would help to have extra room to sort through packages. Hell No.
How about I go about what I’ve been doing: pissing off customers by getting there later than they would like, and then calling you all for help when I can’t finish my business, causing you to frantically look for someone to take stops off me because I can’t finish them all before 5:00. OK.
Great. Now I feel weirdly invalidated.
What’s the lesson here?
It’s going to take a lot of red envelopes to provide the luck I need in order to charm my customers by December.
Friday, January 16, 2009
Big Brother
My company uses all sorts of spy equipment. First, was the computer we carry around to record stops and get signatures. But that wasn’t enough, because drivers could still fool the company by pre-recording stops and then completing them at a later time (they don’t show up in the computer system until they’re completed), or by pretending to attempt deliveries that in fact are not being attempted.
So a couple years ago, a new version of our computer was introduced GPS capable. Now, they know exactly where we stand every second of the day.
But still, that was not enough for them. They have now installed sensory equipment that records when we are wearing our seat belt or when the bulk-head door is closed. We are required to do both while the vehicle is in motion.
If, by using these Big Brother tactics, their suspicion is aroused, they will send a private investigator out to follow us and record our actions in order to find sufficient evidence to fire us.
Considering my management team has all these resources at their finger tips, I was surprised to hear some of the questions being asked me by a supervisor yesterday.
“What do you think is holding you up on this route?” He asked, referring to my new route. On my second day of the being on the route, I asked for help with 10 stops. On my third day, I asked for help with 5. This was to be my fourth day—still within what I consider a reasonable learning curve time.
“Nothing. I just need to get to know it.”
“Do you think you need more training on it?”
“No. It’s five streets, what more training could I use?”
“Well, we just want to make sure you’re ok out there. We’re just curious to know, are you following trace, or are you jumping around trying please the customers that are asking for you to get there early.”
“I’m following trace, doing all one street, then the next. You can see that for yourself, it’s all there in your computer system.”
“We’re just making sure,” he said, lamely. “Do you need any kind of help?”
“I’ll probably need help with some business stops later, but I’ll have to see how my day goes.”
“Ok, maybe I’ll meet you out there.”
And by meet me out there, I thought he meant later in the day with a driver to take stops, or with a steward’s permission to help me deliver. So imagine my surprise after only three stops, he showed up to hop on car with me.
“Are you here to help me, or just ride with me?”
“Just ride with you. Make sure you’re getting the route.”
A babysitter. They sent me a babysitter.
“I’ve been sent out cold on routes before, never receiving a second of training, and never got this kind of concern. When I’ve asked for help on other routes, never has anyone asked if I need more training on the route. Why are you here?”
“We just want to make sure you’re ok with the route.”
Bullshit.
“We know it’s a hard route,” he added.
“Yeah, it’s a hard route, so it’s going to take me more than a couple of days to fully get it down. And if I don’t get it down, and everyday I can’t finish it then you’ll just have to take stuff off the truck.”
“Well that’s not going to happen. This is how the route is.”
“Well I’m not going to work unsafely at an unsafe pace to deliver packages.”
“I’m not asking you to.”
No, you’re just using intimidation practices in hopes that I will.
“Look, the first day the only way we could finish the route is by taking a half hour lunch, and by you helping me.” We’re supposed to take full hour lunches and supervisors are never supposed to touch a package.
“I know that’s why we want to make sure you can do it by yourself.”
“And what if I can’t? I’m not out here stealing time. Not sitting on my ass not working. I’m moving at all times. Once I know the route well, I’ll probably get it just fine. But like I said, I’m following the company methods, and working safely.”
“Well, we just want to make sure.”
He was with me all day. Observing. The second he touched a package, I would have filed a grievance, but I think he understood that. Except for with one 107 lb. package, he didn’t even attempt to help me. I already have to listen to all the customer complaints about getting their packages “late,” I don’t need intimidation from my management team. I was able to complete all my deliveries, but I had to deliver with pick-ups, which was doable that day only because pick-ups were light. I picked up 100 fewer packages than in the past three days, so I had some extra time to finish off the deliveries.
The funny thing is, before this incident, I actually felt motivated to get the route down. I was trying to take into account my customers complaints as I figured out the best way to do the route—trying to see if there was a way to do what’s best for them and me. After all, this is my route and I have to see them everyday, potentially for the next 26 years. Now I don’t care one bit. Complain away customers, complain away. I’m not listening to you anymore. My company doesn’t care when you get your packages, so I don’t either.
So a couple years ago, a new version of our computer was introduced GPS capable. Now, they know exactly where we stand every second of the day.
But still, that was not enough for them. They have now installed sensory equipment that records when we are wearing our seat belt or when the bulk-head door is closed. We are required to do both while the vehicle is in motion.
If, by using these Big Brother tactics, their suspicion is aroused, they will send a private investigator out to follow us and record our actions in order to find sufficient evidence to fire us.
Considering my management team has all these resources at their finger tips, I was surprised to hear some of the questions being asked me by a supervisor yesterday.
“What do you think is holding you up on this route?” He asked, referring to my new route. On my second day of the being on the route, I asked for help with 10 stops. On my third day, I asked for help with 5. This was to be my fourth day—still within what I consider a reasonable learning curve time.
“Nothing. I just need to get to know it.”
“Do you think you need more training on it?”
“No. It’s five streets, what more training could I use?”
“Well, we just want to make sure you’re ok out there. We’re just curious to know, are you following trace, or are you jumping around trying please the customers that are asking for you to get there early.”
“I’m following trace, doing all one street, then the next. You can see that for yourself, it’s all there in your computer system.”
“We’re just making sure,” he said, lamely. “Do you need any kind of help?”
“I’ll probably need help with some business stops later, but I’ll have to see how my day goes.”
“Ok, maybe I’ll meet you out there.”
And by meet me out there, I thought he meant later in the day with a driver to take stops, or with a steward’s permission to help me deliver. So imagine my surprise after only three stops, he showed up to hop on car with me.
“Are you here to help me, or just ride with me?”
“Just ride with you. Make sure you’re getting the route.”
A babysitter. They sent me a babysitter.
“I’ve been sent out cold on routes before, never receiving a second of training, and never got this kind of concern. When I’ve asked for help on other routes, never has anyone asked if I need more training on the route. Why are you here?”
“We just want to make sure you’re ok with the route.”
Bullshit.
“We know it’s a hard route,” he added.
“Yeah, it’s a hard route, so it’s going to take me more than a couple of days to fully get it down. And if I don’t get it down, and everyday I can’t finish it then you’ll just have to take stuff off the truck.”
“Well that’s not going to happen. This is how the route is.”
“Well I’m not going to work unsafely at an unsafe pace to deliver packages.”
“I’m not asking you to.”
No, you’re just using intimidation practices in hopes that I will.
“Look, the first day the only way we could finish the route is by taking a half hour lunch, and by you helping me.” We’re supposed to take full hour lunches and supervisors are never supposed to touch a package.
“I know that’s why we want to make sure you can do it by yourself.”
“And what if I can’t? I’m not out here stealing time. Not sitting on my ass not working. I’m moving at all times. Once I know the route well, I’ll probably get it just fine. But like I said, I’m following the company methods, and working safely.”
“Well, we just want to make sure.”
He was with me all day. Observing. The second he touched a package, I would have filed a grievance, but I think he understood that. Except for with one 107 lb. package, he didn’t even attempt to help me. I already have to listen to all the customer complaints about getting their packages “late,” I don’t need intimidation from my management team. I was able to complete all my deliveries, but I had to deliver with pick-ups, which was doable that day only because pick-ups were light. I picked up 100 fewer packages than in the past three days, so I had some extra time to finish off the deliveries.
The funny thing is, before this incident, I actually felt motivated to get the route down. I was trying to take into account my customers complaints as I figured out the best way to do the route—trying to see if there was a way to do what’s best for them and me. After all, this is my route and I have to see them everyday, potentially for the next 26 years. Now I don’t care one bit. Complain away customers, complain away. I’m not listening to you anymore. My company doesn’t care when you get your packages, so I don’t either.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
An Industrial Route
When I left work Friday, my manager promised that on Monday I would be seeing one of the routes I’m up for. As it turns out, his word was good. At least this second time around.
They sent me out with a supervisor to show me the route, and as it turns out, I like it just fine. It’s an industrial route which means bulk stops, heavy pick-ups, and lots of over-70 packages. But the area is tight, and the nice thing about commercial areas is that everything must be delivered by 5pm. I will work a safe, honest pace, and if I can’t finish in time, I’ll call in and tell my management team, and then it’s their problem.
There’s one catch to the route though: they throw in residential stops from other routes. Without the residential, I could be finished with the route by 5:30 everyday. But that would mean I only work 8 hours everyday. Big Brown can’t have that. If every driver only worked 8 hours, they couldn’t start laying people off now. Nothing is more important than over working some drivers and turning others out into the street in order to maintain profits.
Yesterday, there were 24 residential stops on the truck. All next day air packages that we pick up must be dropped off at our building by 6:15pm in order to make the planes. But I couldn’t finish before then, so I had to drive in to drop off my air, then drive back out to the route. It’s a route close to the building, but few things piss me off more than dropping air and going back out. It’s a waste of time, and quite frankly, I can’t see how it makes financial sense.
My point is, the route has potential in terms of working reasonable hours. But it also has potential to keep me out late, just like any other route. But I’m going to take it. I don’t need to see the other route. The other route is mostly apartments, and I hate apartments. I hate going back two or three times with the same package. And the buildings in that area are old without elevators, and you might be surprised at some of the heavy shit people expect us to carry up three flights of stairs. Plus, the potential on a mostly residential route for working reasonable hours is practically nil.
The other nice thing about my new route is that a lower seniority cover driver has been sitting on the route for months and all the customers have come to know him as “their driver.”
So yesterday, there were lots of people asking, “Is our regular guy on vacation again?”
My supervisor explained the situation, and quite a few people responded with, “It’s a hard route.” Or, “Our regular driver is usually here earlier.”
So now that I’m taking the route, I can righteously respond with, “I’m your regular driver now.”
And let’s face it, who doesn’t enjoy a good opportunity to feel righteous?
They sent me out with a supervisor to show me the route, and as it turns out, I like it just fine. It’s an industrial route which means bulk stops, heavy pick-ups, and lots of over-70 packages. But the area is tight, and the nice thing about commercial areas is that everything must be delivered by 5pm. I will work a safe, honest pace, and if I can’t finish in time, I’ll call in and tell my management team, and then it’s their problem.
There’s one catch to the route though: they throw in residential stops from other routes. Without the residential, I could be finished with the route by 5:30 everyday. But that would mean I only work 8 hours everyday. Big Brown can’t have that. If every driver only worked 8 hours, they couldn’t start laying people off now. Nothing is more important than over working some drivers and turning others out into the street in order to maintain profits.
Yesterday, there were 24 residential stops on the truck. All next day air packages that we pick up must be dropped off at our building by 6:15pm in order to make the planes. But I couldn’t finish before then, so I had to drive in to drop off my air, then drive back out to the route. It’s a route close to the building, but few things piss me off more than dropping air and going back out. It’s a waste of time, and quite frankly, I can’t see how it makes financial sense.
My point is, the route has potential in terms of working reasonable hours. But it also has potential to keep me out late, just like any other route. But I’m going to take it. I don’t need to see the other route. The other route is mostly apartments, and I hate apartments. I hate going back two or three times with the same package. And the buildings in that area are old without elevators, and you might be surprised at some of the heavy shit people expect us to carry up three flights of stairs. Plus, the potential on a mostly residential route for working reasonable hours is practically nil.
The other nice thing about my new route is that a lower seniority cover driver has been sitting on the route for months and all the customers have come to know him as “their driver.”
So yesterday, there were lots of people asking, “Is our regular guy on vacation again?”
My supervisor explained the situation, and quite a few people responded with, “It’s a hard route.” Or, “Our regular driver is usually here earlier.”
So now that I’m taking the route, I can righteously respond with, “I’m your regular driver now.”
And let’s face it, who doesn’t enjoy a good opportunity to feel righteous?
Friday, January 9, 2009
My Own Route
I’m up for two bid routes. All drivers at my company start as floaters—filling in on routes for drivers who are sick, on vacation, or injured. We get a route only when one opens up from a driver who retires or otherwise leaves. When a route opens up, it starts the bidding process. All drivers who think they may want the route, sign the bid list, and then management offers the route to the driver with the highest seniority, if that driver decides not to take the bid, they ask the driver with the next highest seniority, etc.
I don’t have all that much seniority. So the fact that I’m up for two bid routes, means they must both suck. Since I’ve never driven either route, I’m allowed to try them out before I decide, but of course, my management team must assign me to one of those routes for me to try it.
I was told in December that my name was next on the list for these routes. Because it was our peak season, they were entitled to make me wait until January to try the routes. Now it’s January. I was told on Tuesday that I would be trying out the first one on Thursday. It’s Friday, and I haven’t seen either route.
“Staffing is still tight,” was the excuse from my manager. “But I’m committed to getting you onto those routes, so you can look at them.”
Yeah, because the contract says he has to be committed.
Fact of the matter is, they like to be able to bounce us around anywhere they like to cover routes, and they frequently violate seniority to do it. My steward says I should give it till next Tuesday and then file a grievance. Staffing is actually legitimately tight because volume has not dropped even though Christmas is long over. Apparently, there are plenty of people taking advantage of internet sales. Stop it. I’m tired. No more buying until February.
I desperately want my own route. I hate waking up in the morning, not knowing where I’ll be working. Many times, I’m thrown on routes I don’t know very well (like this week), and I end up working 10 or more hours (like this week). They also take advantage of cover drivers and over dispatch them more often than route drivers. We are made to things the route drivers would never put up with. So, stability is the advantage of getting a route, but it also means the end of variety. It also means I’ll stop doing routes that allow me to come home for lunch. That makes me sad.
I’ll profile the routes here when I try them out. Wish me luck.
I don’t have all that much seniority. So the fact that I’m up for two bid routes, means they must both suck. Since I’ve never driven either route, I’m allowed to try them out before I decide, but of course, my management team must assign me to one of those routes for me to try it.
I was told in December that my name was next on the list for these routes. Because it was our peak season, they were entitled to make me wait until January to try the routes. Now it’s January. I was told on Tuesday that I would be trying out the first one on Thursday. It’s Friday, and I haven’t seen either route.
“Staffing is still tight,” was the excuse from my manager. “But I’m committed to getting you onto those routes, so you can look at them.”
Yeah, because the contract says he has to be committed.
Fact of the matter is, they like to be able to bounce us around anywhere they like to cover routes, and they frequently violate seniority to do it. My steward says I should give it till next Tuesday and then file a grievance. Staffing is actually legitimately tight because volume has not dropped even though Christmas is long over. Apparently, there are plenty of people taking advantage of internet sales. Stop it. I’m tired. No more buying until February.
I desperately want my own route. I hate waking up in the morning, not knowing where I’ll be working. Many times, I’m thrown on routes I don’t know very well (like this week), and I end up working 10 or more hours (like this week). They also take advantage of cover drivers and over dispatch them more often than route drivers. We are made to things the route drivers would never put up with. So, stability is the advantage of getting a route, but it also means the end of variety. It also means I’ll stop doing routes that allow me to come home for lunch. That makes me sad.
I’ll profile the routes here when I try them out. Wish me luck.
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
Welcome
I work for a package delivery company that shall remain nameless. I start this blog not in the hopes of losing my job, but because many silly stories are created everyday in my line of work, and quite frankly, it’s selfish not to share them with the broader public. There are many ways I would change my job if I were able to make the decisions for the company (and maybe one day, I’ll write about that), but over all, the line of work I’m in suits me well. It keeps me active and I get to drive around a big truck. That makes me really cool. Just ask any five-year-old.
Being a package delivery driver puts me in a unique position. I make people happy, and piss people off by the hundreds everyday. I am not the only person with opinions on how my job could best be done. Just about everybody has opinions on how I could best do my job. People are so helpful with their suggestions. I give each one special consideration. So keep those suggestions coming, and I’ll be sure to broadcast your opinions loud and clear here on my blog so everyone can judge for themselves.
For instance, parking. People are extremely passionate about their opinions in regards to parking. Certainly getting blocked in by a delivery driver is enough to raise anyone’s sense of injustice, but I’ve even had comments given when I’m parked well out of people’s way.
A woman around the age of 70, once walked halfway across a shopping plaza parking lot to say, “You shouldn’t be taking up so many spaces!”
I laughed, thinking this was a joke, but then I saw the look on her face, and it wasn’t friendly.
“Are you kidding?” I asked. I was straddling two spots, and the tail of my truck extended into the two spots behind me.
“No, it’s terrible the way you guys [keep in mind I’m not a guy] take up so much space.”
I looked around and saw at least 100 empty spots surrounding my truck. I laughed again, this time clearly not with her, but at her.
“There’s nobody out here except me and you.”
“You only need one spot.” She held up her finger for me to count. “Just one!” Then she stomped off to the grocery store secure in the knowledge that her good deed was done for the day. She had continued the long and hard fought struggle for parking equality.
Now, let’s give her opinion the special consideration that it deserves. Considering the tail of my truck was already hanging over the line behind the spots I occupied, two spots would at least be needed. The parking spots were not compact, so one spot would have worked for the width of my truck, but let’s just say suddenly the parking lot filled up and the two spots on either side and across the lane became occupied. Suddenly there would not be room for me to pull out without causing significant damage to at least one of the cars around me. Trucks swing wide. She must have spent her whole life not paying attention to the physics of truck motion including not ever reading any of the signs that are sometimes posted on the backs of semis that say, “Truck makes wide turns.”
So for practical reasons, I needed to straddle two spots, and for material reality, I needed to occupy the two behind me. It turns out the woman’s logic was indeed flawed. We guys do not only need one spot. Given that, together with the fact that it didn’t matter because the lot was empty surrounding my truck, it turns out she’s not only wrong, but fighting a battle that makes absolutely no difference to anyone. The only conclusion I can come to is perhaps she’s trying to kill herself by artificially raising her blood pressure to cause a heart attack.
Funnily enough, this is just one (imagine me holding up my finger for you to count) of hundreds of stories that I have about confrontations over parking. In fact, there have been times I thought my life was in danger because of the ire raised in some good Samaritans from being blocked in by my truck. Or their driveway being blocked. Or an empty parking spot that they would like to occupy is blocked. Or they perceive their car/driveway/parking spot is blocked. But those stories must wait for another day.
Being a package delivery driver puts me in a unique position. I make people happy, and piss people off by the hundreds everyday. I am not the only person with opinions on how my job could best be done. Just about everybody has opinions on how I could best do my job. People are so helpful with their suggestions. I give each one special consideration. So keep those suggestions coming, and I’ll be sure to broadcast your opinions loud and clear here on my blog so everyone can judge for themselves.
For instance, parking. People are extremely passionate about their opinions in regards to parking. Certainly getting blocked in by a delivery driver is enough to raise anyone’s sense of injustice, but I’ve even had comments given when I’m parked well out of people’s way.
A woman around the age of 70, once walked halfway across a shopping plaza parking lot to say, “You shouldn’t be taking up so many spaces!”
I laughed, thinking this was a joke, but then I saw the look on her face, and it wasn’t friendly.
“Are you kidding?” I asked. I was straddling two spots, and the tail of my truck extended into the two spots behind me.
“No, it’s terrible the way you guys [keep in mind I’m not a guy] take up so much space.”
I looked around and saw at least 100 empty spots surrounding my truck. I laughed again, this time clearly not with her, but at her.
“There’s nobody out here except me and you.”
“You only need one spot.” She held up her finger for me to count. “Just one!” Then she stomped off to the grocery store secure in the knowledge that her good deed was done for the day. She had continued the long and hard fought struggle for parking equality.
Now, let’s give her opinion the special consideration that it deserves. Considering the tail of my truck was already hanging over the line behind the spots I occupied, two spots would at least be needed. The parking spots were not compact, so one spot would have worked for the width of my truck, but let’s just say suddenly the parking lot filled up and the two spots on either side and across the lane became occupied. Suddenly there would not be room for me to pull out without causing significant damage to at least one of the cars around me. Trucks swing wide. She must have spent her whole life not paying attention to the physics of truck motion including not ever reading any of the signs that are sometimes posted on the backs of semis that say, “Truck makes wide turns.”
So for practical reasons, I needed to straddle two spots, and for material reality, I needed to occupy the two behind me. It turns out the woman’s logic was indeed flawed. We guys do not only need one spot. Given that, together with the fact that it didn’t matter because the lot was empty surrounding my truck, it turns out she’s not only wrong, but fighting a battle that makes absolutely no difference to anyone. The only conclusion I can come to is perhaps she’s trying to kill herself by artificially raising her blood pressure to cause a heart attack.
Funnily enough, this is just one (imagine me holding up my finger for you to count) of hundreds of stories that I have about confrontations over parking. In fact, there have been times I thought my life was in danger because of the ire raised in some good Samaritans from being blocked in by my truck. Or their driveway being blocked. Or an empty parking spot that they would like to occupy is blocked. Or they perceive their car/driveway/parking spot is blocked. But those stories must wait for another day.
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