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.