Messenger stories
#1
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Messenger stories
Working as a messenger in Manhattan in 1977 was the most enjoyable job I ever had. Bike Forums should have a subforum devoted to messenger stories. Such as:
Me (middle of the day, having just had lunch at the Genroku Sushi Conveyor Belt Restaurant, with several parcels still to deliver, calling the messenger service office): I'm at 405 Fifth; what do you have for me?
Dispatcher: Are you carrying anything? (When they ask you that, you know that whatever it is, it'll be interesting or valuable or both.)
Me (lying, because you want as many runs per hour as possible): Nope!
Dispatcher: Go to 330 Lex and pick up an envelope there. Don't call in---you have to take it directly to the customer---it's $50,000 in negotiable securities.
Me: Will do!
Me (having arrived at 330 Lex and picked up the securities, calling the office): I'm at 330 Lex; what do you have for me?
Different dispatcher: Are you carrying anything?
Me (lying again): Nope!
Dispatcher: Go to 290 Park and pick up an envelope there. Don't call in---you have to take it directly to the customer---it's two tickets to Bermuda for a flight tonight.
Me: Will do!
So: there I was, carrying $50,000 and two tickets to Bermuda. I was only mildly tempted.
Anyone else have any messenger stories?
Me (middle of the day, having just had lunch at the Genroku Sushi Conveyor Belt Restaurant, with several parcels still to deliver, calling the messenger service office): I'm at 405 Fifth; what do you have for me?
Dispatcher: Are you carrying anything? (When they ask you that, you know that whatever it is, it'll be interesting or valuable or both.)
Me (lying, because you want as many runs per hour as possible): Nope!
Dispatcher: Go to 330 Lex and pick up an envelope there. Don't call in---you have to take it directly to the customer---it's $50,000 in negotiable securities.
Me: Will do!
Me (having arrived at 330 Lex and picked up the securities, calling the office): I'm at 330 Lex; what do you have for me?
Different dispatcher: Are you carrying anything?
Me (lying again): Nope!
Dispatcher: Go to 290 Park and pick up an envelope there. Don't call in---you have to take it directly to the customer---it's two tickets to Bermuda for a flight tonight.
Me: Will do!
So: there I was, carrying $50,000 and two tickets to Bermuda. I was only mildly tempted.
Anyone else have any messenger stories?
#2
Sr Member on Sr bikes
I sometimes ride my clunker bike to the liquor store, or a nearby bar. Does that count?
Dan
Dan
#3
Senior Member
Working as a messenger in Manhattan in 1977 was the most enjoyable job I ever had. Bike Forums should have a subforum devoted to messenger stories. Such as:
Me (middle of the day, having just had lunch at the Genroku Sushi Conveyor Belt Restaurant, with several parcels still to deliver, calling the messenger service office): I'm at 405 Fifth; what do you have for me?
Dispatcher: Are you carrying anything? (When they ask you that, you know that whatever it is, it'll be interesting or valuable or both.)
Me (lying, because you want as many runs per hour as possible): Nope!
Dispatcher: Go to 330 Lex and pick up an envelope there. Don't call in---you have to take it directly to the customer---it's $50,000 in negotiable securities.
Me: Will do!
Me (having arrived at 330 Lex and picked up the securities, calling the office): I'm at 330 Lex; what do you have for me?
Different dispatcher: Are you carrying anything?
Me (lying again): Nope!
Dispatcher: Go to 290 Park and pick up an envelope there. Don't call in---you have to take it directly to the customer---it's two tickets to Bermuda for a flight tonight.
Me: Will do!
So: there I was, carrying $50,000 and two tickets to Bermuda. I was only mildly tempted.
Anyone else have any messenger stories?
Me (middle of the day, having just had lunch at the Genroku Sushi Conveyor Belt Restaurant, with several parcels still to deliver, calling the messenger service office): I'm at 405 Fifth; what do you have for me?
Dispatcher: Are you carrying anything? (When they ask you that, you know that whatever it is, it'll be interesting or valuable or both.)
Me (lying, because you want as many runs per hour as possible): Nope!
Dispatcher: Go to 330 Lex and pick up an envelope there. Don't call in---you have to take it directly to the customer---it's $50,000 in negotiable securities.
Me: Will do!
Me (having arrived at 330 Lex and picked up the securities, calling the office): I'm at 330 Lex; what do you have for me?
Different dispatcher: Are you carrying anything?
Me (lying again): Nope!
Dispatcher: Go to 290 Park and pick up an envelope there. Don't call in---you have to take it directly to the customer---it's two tickets to Bermuda for a flight tonight.
Me: Will do!
So: there I was, carrying $50,000 and two tickets to Bermuda. I was only mildly tempted.
Anyone else have any messenger stories?
#4
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I was a courier in Calgary in the late 80's. Great gig as I picked up and delivered blueprints for a reproduction company so I didn't have to hustle for commission. Had a spectacular near miss when I hit black ice and went down, rolling into the middle of a busy intersection. Fortunately all the cars stopped as I popped up in an "I'm all right!" kinda move and hopped back on my bike. I also remember looking up at a big outdoor digital thermometer one day and reading -32.
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#6
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I was also a messenger in NYC, from the tail end of high school into college. It was the late nineties and the best days of the messenger era were in the rear view mirror. But still relatively good money for a dumb kid liked riding in traffic in Manhattan and downtown Brooklyn.
The messenger service I worked for did a lot of trade in the entertainment field. Delivered a lot of scripts, sometimes to famous people. Sigourney Weaver gave me a hundred buck tip once.
One time I delivered a huge envelope of cash from or for Ron Delsener to the China Club. Or maybe the kit-kat, I forget. But I remember I had to wait for the manager to count the money before I could leave. And it was a lot, like a lot lot, like holy cow! a lot.
I was also dropping off a lot of weed for this Wall Street guy that would ask for me by name. He insisted on my being his exclusive guy. Think he sold the stuff to traders he worked with or something because he was moving enormous quantities of it. I heard later on that 9/11 wiped out his little enterprise.
The messenger service I worked for did a lot of trade in the entertainment field. Delivered a lot of scripts, sometimes to famous people. Sigourney Weaver gave me a hundred buck tip once.
One time I delivered a huge envelope of cash from or for Ron Delsener to the China Club. Or maybe the kit-kat, I forget. But I remember I had to wait for the manager to count the money before I could leave. And it was a lot, like a lot lot, like holy cow! a lot.
I was also dropping off a lot of weed for this Wall Street guy that would ask for me by name. He insisted on my being his exclusive guy. Think he sold the stuff to traders he worked with or something because he was moving enormous quantities of it. I heard later on that 9/11 wiped out his little enterprise.
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#7
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Not to mention that serious F U money begins at ten mil. $50k will cover a disappointing amount of hookers and blow, especially for a fit young dude, and leaves nothing for guns and lawyers.
#8
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