Dashing my way

Submitted into Contest #122 in response to: Start your story in the middle of a traffic jam.... view prompt

1 comment

Adventure Creative Nonfiction Funny

The traffic jam wasn't bad at University and Glenn Avenue. But, the bright afternoon sunlight hit my eyes, making me squint and barely see the light turn green. I was on my way to the first call.

It was the week of finals, most papers were graded and my base salary covered the necessary bills. But, nothing was left over to pay for a much-needed adventure at the end of the semester. So, why not earn some extra money while forging a work-induced adventure in my four-door silver Hyundai? I accepted the app's challenge as a teacher/middle-aged mother to explore the unknown territory of traveling strangers’ streets to make secret deliveries. This is all done, mind you, incognito while taking snapshots as proof of my appearance.

At 3:30 p.m., I opened the app looked at my profile. No requests. No credibility or reputation built...yet. I put on my shades, grabbed the personal notes written for clients and clicked the red button to begin the timed adventure. It was 3:40 p.m. and the bot reminded me I hadn't left my neighborhood yet. Did I need some help? No. I was well on my way, excited about this initial private venture making my way to entice and please new clients.

I was stuck in some afternoon traffic, in broad daylight and sure to be seen by many a student, parent or colleague. The dark shades and pandemic-induced mask accessory helps hide my identity. The light turned green after a two-minute delay and my Vans hit the gas by 3:44 p.m. I was going to make this deadline. I had six minutes for the first pick-up.

I parked by 3:46 p.m., and darted in the speak easy, asking (with shades half on) if they had something for John. They nodded, handed me the goods and I was on my second leg of the trip. It was 3:49 p.m. I had 15 minutes according to GPS to make John satisfied. I made my way down the industrial parkway and concrete Opelika Highway to the winding roads of the historic district. Left on 7th Avenue and then right on 6th. The third house on the left and I’m there. It’s 4:01 p.m. At my destination. But, a dog runs up out of nowhere to my car barking like I’m an intruder about to steal some UPS packages. I’m in unfamiliar territory, yet relieved to not know anyone. Because, for some reason I do not want to advertise or flaunt my minimum wage-paying adventure. The German Shepard jumps up to the driver’s side window. Luckily it was closed. I hear a low growl and then incessant barking.

What do I do now? I do not have the phone number of the client, yet have only 4 minutes to make the transaction successfully. I honk and the neighbor, a retired-aged woman wearing an Auburn hat, purple yoga pants and a black hoodie, yell at the dog to scram! I wait. Is the dog gone? Two minutes ‘til the clock strikes. I do want a good tip. I decide to take my chances and bolt uphill across the manicured green lawn and to the front door to deliver the package. It was 4:05 p.m. Thank God! I put the folded down paper bag with green round sticker down on the front door mat. This house had a beautiful new door with beveled glass and dark wood, the old-world style. Not something I would be shopping for at the moment.

I skid down the grassy hill and open my Hyundai grey sedan door. I now realize I should have taken a photo of the bag for proof of delivery. Damn. I look behind me and no dog in site. I run up the hill again, mask falling and shades drooping. I take a quick photo with my iPhone of the bag still remaining on the porch. 4:06:45 p.m.

Take two-I dash again down the grassy hill and slide into my car like Batman’s sidekick Robin. Phew. I did it! My first delivery in the bag. John must be pleased. But, do I really care? Well, enough to sustain a decent tip. Base pay was $4.75, but with a $6 tip, not too bad for a 36-minute job.

It was an adventure for sure, trying to blend in and not be noticeable to any suspecting students who may be wondering why their research paper grades are not yet posted. Or do they really care? Well, enough to maintain a decent grade. It’s the fourth semester of the pandemic after all. Students are tired, lack motivation and would rather watch TikTok videos to keep their depression and stress at bay.

Teachers facilitate discussion with enthusiasm, fanfare, funny meme’s and reflective comments so students can relate it to the real world. Do they really want to learn about another fallacy in reasoning, the false dilemma, either-or false truth? It’s been played out, this polarization, in the media. Meanwhile, every person wanting their life better amid COVID-19, most all are sedentary on their devices. Sitting with their apps, searching for ways to make their life better. Do these apps make them money? Do they teach them the needed skills for their inevitable professional life? Not sure, but it is appeasing. Appeasing enough to not want to leave their apartment and drive to pick up any food.

I can help… assist these complacent clients on cells willing to pay $30 for two sandwiches that you could just make for $3.

I drive off from the first client’s house by 4:08, after seeing my most recent earnings and reflecting on the new clientele demographics.

It takes me 10 minutes to get home as no new schedules are posted or available. I arrive pleased at the experience of my new adventure, in-town, and making me money, not costing me money. Will I owe taxes? Yep, I read that I should save 40% of each payment for taxes I will have to pay over $600 in earnings.

I guess it was worth the adventure, risking my identity, and earning some extra money while forging a work-induced adventure in my four-door silver Hyundai. I explored unfamiliar strangers’ streets making secret deliveries while incognito, braving a road adventure in my town that may or may not pay the bills.

Back to square one. Maybe I’ll write a short story instead. All in a day’s work. 

November 27, 2021 22:56

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1 comment

Boutat Driss
10:13 Dec 05, 2021

nice tale

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