From My Doorstep to Yours: A Delivery Deluge

 

From My Doorstep to Yours: A Delivery Deluge 

You know, I used to think going out to dinner was an event. You put on a clean shirt, maybe even ironed it. You made conversation. Now? Now you just tap a screen and a complete stranger shows up at your door with a paper bag. And don't tell me it's progress. I see more delivery drivers on bikes weaving through traffic than I see actual bikes being used for recreation. Makes you wonder if they even own bikes. And where are they going? Just from one restaurant to another, for hours. Are they employees? Contractors? Serfs in a new digital kingdom? I don't even know, and frankly, I'm not sure anyone does.

I was talking to my friend, let's call him "Apps-olutely Addicted Al," the other day. Al hasn't cooked a meal since the Eisenhower administration. He showed me his delivery app. It listed a restaurant called "Grandma's Kitchen," which, according to the map, was located in a vacant lot behind a gas station. "They have amazing meatloaf," Al assured me, "virtually, of course."

And the cost! I swear, I ordered a simple sandwich the other day. The sandwich was $12. The delivery fee was $5. The service fee was $3. Then there was the "convenience charge" of $2. And, of course, the "eco-friendly packaging" surcharge of $1.50, despite the fact that the sandwich came wrapped in enough plastic to preserve a pharaoh. By the time it arrived, I was paying more for the delivery than I was for the sandwich! Is this a business or a highway robbery?

I tried to order from "Exotic Eats Extravaganza" last night. They advertised "Authentic Martian Grub." When the driver finally arrived (in a surprisingly terrestrial sedan), he handed me a sealed container with a small, green, pulsating blob inside. "Is this...safe?" I asked. He shrugged. "Says on the app, 'consume at your own risk.'" I tipped him anyway. You never know what kind of intergalactic karma you're messing with.

The whole thing makes you wonder. We've created this elaborate system to avoid the inconvenience of...well, of living. Of going outside, of interacting with other human beings, of making a meal. Are we really better off? I don't know. All I know is, I miss the days when a "delivery" meant a pizza guy with a warm pie and a smile, not some algorithmically optimized transaction that leaves you wondering where all your money went and if that last bite of virtual meatloaf will be the end of you. And don't even get me started on how many commercials there are for these things! It's like we're all starving to death, and the only solution is a phone app. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go make a sandwich...the old-fashioned way. And I'm going to enjoy it, darn it.