And now some handy quotes on food and life from Anthony Bourdain. Food is everything we are. It's an extension of nationalist feeling, ethnic feeling, your personal history, your province, your region, your tribe, your grandma. It's inseparable from those from the get go. Good food is very often, even most often, simple food. You learn a lot about someone when you share a meal together. Meals make the society hold the fabric together in lots of ways that were charming and interesting and intoxicating. To me, the perfect meal or the best meals occur in a context that frequently has very little to do with the food itself. I think food, culture, people and landscape are all absolutely inseparable. Drink heavily with locals whenever possible. Cooking is a craft, I like to think, and a good cook is a craftsman, not an artist. There's nothing wrong with that. The great cathedrals of Europe were built by craftsmen, though not designed by them. Practicing your craft in expert fashion is noble, honorable and satisfying. Bad food is made without pride by cooks who have no pride and no love. Bad food is made by chefs who are indifferent or who are trying to be everything to everybody, who are trying to please everyone. Bad food is fake food, food that shows fear and lack of confidence in people's ability to discern or to make decisions about their lives. And bad food is what the customers of the deliverant order and receive and mostly deserve every damn.

Hey there. Hey there now. So I'm back for more deliver ranting. So it's, it's the lunch rush and I forgot I'd managed to get these little half hour sign up. Whereas as I've been relating to you wonderful listeners, I used to be able to sign up if I paid attention for what I would call somewhat of a full shift, at least three hours at a time, sometimes more. For the last several months and at the beginning of this year. Well, that's all changed. Everything's locked up unless I want to sign up for the 7:30am or 12:30am shift, which basically means not doing anything but spinning around. So those shifts are all snapped up by the new crop of ranters and. Or about to be ranters. I'm sure they'll find out how fun it is if they're wet behinds. Wet behinds? The ear. Wet behind the ear, not wet behinds. Anyway, focus. So. So just wanted to give you a running breakdown of what's been happening during my half hour shift. So the first thing to know is that if you pay attention, you find out that you can sign up. Half an hour. Well, sorry, 15 minutes in advance your shift, and they will give you orders then. So that means you get to extend your shift by a little bit. So that's helpful. Which I did take advantage of. And so far I've gotten four orders, none of which I've accepted. And the only reason why I haven't is because they haven't offered me what my minimum is. Now, when human beings don't know what the story is, we automatically invent one because we hate a vacuum. We hate having to ask why. So we're going to make something up even if it's completely false or turns out to be inaccurate, rather than sit around wondering. That's just how everybody's minds work. I don't care what culture you're from. So I'm bringing that up because I always assign this nameless, faceless, Borg like entity that I only know through app and Internet, non human, more power than it has. That's another human trait too. So first order I get is from a restaurant we're just going to call blah blah blah, and they offered me $5.75 to do the order. Now you may have been listening, you may not, but my minimum is $6. And there's good reasons for this. Mostly it's because that's about the minimum you need to make when you do approximately two to two and a half orders an hour to just squeak by, not thrive, not even do well, just squeak by. Anything less than that, you shouldn't take it because you're just gonna race to the bottom. Which is exactly what I'm watching have happen in front of my eyes here at this market I'm in, which is a relatively medium sized place in the pnw. So, okay, so that one comes in fine. I don't take it. And that happened 10 minutes before my actual scheduled shift from 12 to 12:30. Cool. Declined it. Two minutes later, another one comes in from a local place. I'm just going to call it the Smart Smut. And the Smut Smart is notorious for giving $2 and $3. I think they'd give a $0.50 order if they could. Now there could be a few different reasons why this is road rash. Always says they give you some kind of guarantee, which believe me, when they use the word guarantee, you might as well run for the hills because that's bullshit. But then on top of that, they give you the tip which they have poached in the past, have told us they no longer do, and of course I trust them. Wouldn't you? So, so the next order I get from this place, it's $5.50 right? Now you tell me, do you think this algorithm knows what my minimum is? Because that's what I've selected. This thing dials me in. Now maybe I'm making that up because like I said, humans are want to do that, but I don't think so. I think this thing knows that it's going to try to undercut me, right? Because first its plan is, okay, well we'll get them a quarter short. Well now we'll get them 50 cents short. And pretty soon you're doing orders for free or you're fucking paying them to do the orders like tomorrow. Tom Sawyer. That's how it works. It's gross. So another order just came in. Let's check it out, see what happens. I might get cut off if this thing does the beep beep, but we'll see. Waiting, waiting. Aha. Now I get an order for $7. Well, what do you know? See it offered me four things and then it finally choked and gave me what I deserved. Which is really interesting because it went, went back to what the original, the original restaurant that they first offered me. You know, I mean again, small market up here, so probably just a synchronistic coincident, but I just find that really interesting. Right, and so this is me coming in after my, ooh, half hour shift that I managed to make a 45 minute shift with the early login that I mentioned at the beginning of this deliverant. And that's it, that's all I did. So basically I made enough money to pay for my trip downtown and back to my little hovel today, however, I did do the right thing, which was I went back in right after I ended my shift or my shift was ended. I didn't end it, it was ended for me. And even though I kept trying to add myself in to see if there was a way to extend my shift, never happened, I did. Right after my rash was ended, I did see that I could extend or, sorry, sign up for another shift starting at 5:30. I think it's 5:30 to 8. 8:30. So crossing my fingers, I'll be able to stick that out and then I'll be able to extend it and make my quota for the day, which is ideally 15 to 20 bucks an hour and ideally 100 bucks minimum. So it's still struggle. Struggle's real out here. So talk to you later. Howdy. Howdy, Howdy doody. So, so this is a continuation of earlier rant part B, if you will. So I Did what? One and a half, two orders earlier today. And this evening has proved to be better, but not nearly at the level it should be. About the only bright spot was I was given some food and I poached some food. So I'll start with the poaching first because it's kind of confessional. Went into a very busy restaurant, having ordered food for a friend of mine and I to share over the phone. And when I got there, I also did that because I had gotten an order at the same restaurant. And when I got there, they were crazy. Slam didn't know what was going on. When did you even take my name? He took my order. That's how busy they were. So I got there, told them why it was there for me and for this other order. They ran around like headless chooks and go, blimey. They came over and they gave me the order for the road rasher, and then they gave me my order and then they left. I sat there and I sat there and sat there and I put a dollar in the tip jar and I left. So I am an opportunist, but I also feel like I've done them so much business and other businesses have given me stuff just without even doing anything except showing them my part of face that I was mostly okay with. I figured it was a sign from somewhere. However, I will admit, when I got an order to go back to the restaurant later that night, I was a little bit nervous and like, well, hey, you know what? I'm okay with fessing up if it's that big of a deal. It really wasn't that much. It was an appetizer. Probably cost them two bucks to make, if that. So plus, I got a dollar for my tip, so, I mean, it's food, man. It's not like I'm taking people's souls. That's later. Anyway, I'll probably be the one to pay for it karmically later when I have the shitz, which that restaurant is notorious for. So the other thing that happened was I got to go to Big Breezers and pick up possibly the most cheaply made food that calls itself Italian ever. And while I was there, I had to wait. So, of course, when I wait, I think about extractions that I can make from the business that is making me suffer. But the guy seemed pretty nice, and I heard him say something about, he sticks up for himself on his day off, doesn't come in, doesn't answer the phone. I kind of was like, yeah, right on, brother. And he Thought that was cool. Then some dude came in off the street that he obviously knew, and they started like mock fighting each other. And he heard, used the word pugilistically. And I'm like, okay, I can deal with this guy. So I got up there and he's like, well, we finally got your order. I'm like, dude, man, about time. And he just kind of looked at me and said, you know, I mean, make me wait. Could at least give me something for free. That was just bullshitting him. But this dude is a champ. He goes around, he looks, he looks. He's like, hey, want some chicken wings? I'm like, fuck yeah, I'll take some chicken wings. I'm like, you are now my bff. And I went around and I hugged him. I actually thought about kissing him. But no, I'm just kidding. We didn't do anything. I don't touch people. Are you kidding? Phobic germs. Ew. Bad enough I have to fucking touch people occasionally when I hand them their food. I try to not do that. I actually wear a hazmat suit when I do this job. You can't see it, but it's there, believe me. Anyway, Selva made my quota. I have another order to go to to this crazy bar that has a very nasty word in its name, but you have to separate it to get it. And in fact, they have a part of the restaurant has an even worse insinuendo. I didn't make that word up. I'm stealing it from my good dead friend Jorge and his buddy, who's still alive, who's still my buddy Tomasio. And yes, applying it to this restaurant because has to do with roosters and other appendages. And I need to go. Okay? So maybe things will look up. Who knows? Tune, Stay, Okie pashmokies. I'm at the end of my fucking shift.

Yeah.

Fucking who? Me. I did have a good night with food. And I'm gonna read, or at least attempt to read the text I send my late night texting friend about how my night came to an end. Well, I had an okay shift finally, until the end, becoming friends with the guy that owns a shawarma cart. I think I mentioned him to you. He's a super cool dude. So I took an order from him even though it was below my minimum, which is true, I did, just so I could hang out with them for a little bit before the end of the night. Right. Question mark. I guess I don't need to say that because, you know, it's A question mark by my inflection. But hey, I can't tell if I'm recording or voicing a text or what the fuck I'm doing anymore because it's late and I am tired. People pay attention. So I was going to hang out with him for a little bit. And then what happens? I got another order on top of the first order from the shawarma dude. So I'm like, okay, I'll take it. Whatever. And then we talk for a while. He makes the orders, gives them to me. I get ready to go. Also known as Ellipsis. And the app goes tits up. Just fucking shit. It locks me out. I can't get in. Customer service goes nowhere. Nowhere to be found. So fuck it. Do I feel bad? Yes, I do. Something I would never do with any other restaurant. But I know this guy. I go back and I tell him, hey, this is what's happening. I don't want you to get in trouble. Customers are going to be really upset. But I can't get out of this app. And fortunately, he trusts me. First mistake there. And takes me face value because I'm really not trying to poach his food. I'm not. I'm seriously not. But it's. It's being handed to me by divine providence. People don't want me to starve. You know what? What can I say? I am deeply appreciative and prideful at the same time. Do I cancel each other out? I don't know. I'll have to talk to the preacher man. That's a reference to something I may add on later. Just weird shit on the radio. So anyway, I'm not trying to poach his food, which is delicious. I gave him some of the ginger candies that I hand out to people because I'm the ginger candy deliveranter, and I get people hooked. And it's fucking like crack cocaine meets heroin, man. People love this shit because I've got a source and they're inexpensive. Don't buy them at the goddamn health food store for an inflated price because Paul Newman's picture's on there. Sorry, Paul. I love you, man, but come on, buy them at the Asian markets. They're better. They're intense, and they have. If they come from California, they have cancer in them because everything in California has a cancer warning on it. Anyway, so he loved the ginger candy, said he had stomach issues. It was perfect. And I was gonna pay for my falafel pita, but he just totally comped it to me, which he did the first time I got some, he gave it for free. Like, this guy's like, becoming a food brother, man, do you know how precious those kinds of people are to me? They're amazing. Okay, so anyway, don't get me wrong, I ain't mad. I just poached his food because that's what's happening. It will go to a good place, namely my tummy baby, as a friend of mine likes to call it. He calls himself his tummy. I. I am a little bit uncomfortable calling my fat roll a tummy baby, but who knows? Someday I may give birth. I know it's blasphemous against the whole holiness of all of it, and I'm going to hell already, so just fucking watch me go down in flames. Anyway, just like the free chicken wings I got earlier from the nice big greasers Italian food guy, and then the equally free, which I already talked about because I am bad person chicken dumplings. So, I mean, what could I do? But at the end of the day, I'm stuck here with some tasty shawarma, which I would be sharing with you. Remember, this is a text to my friend. It's so meta, dude. This. This whole podcast experience is just. It's beyond even something Stephen Hawking would get. I think if he was still alive, he would be coming to me and just wanting to know how did I acquire this level of wisdom? And it's very simple. I essentially am phallic. Look it up. And I would be sharing the shawarm with you if I was a little bit closer. My lay now, buddies. Back in the state below the state below the state below this date. If I was a little closer, I'd share with you, but I'm not, so you're gonna have to eat with me in spirit, my dude. It's been a chicken night faux show. Now this is going to be funny because it's a voice to text stupid thing, but Fosho is Fosho. Last time I spelled it and, well, I was gonna make a bad joke, but see, I'm filtering. I'm getting better. But voice to text decided I was speaking French and spelled it F, A U C, H, E, A U, X. I love words with X and Z in them because they're, like, powerful. So it's fo show, Mr. Fosho. I think that's honey, honey funny. Okay, it's time for bed for me. Laugh out loud. That is how voice detects heard. Fosho translated into French. I love that shit. So surreal, comical. Well, you got a system with how you do things, blah, blah. That's all personal stuff. So anyway, my last words to him are, I love you too. Especially when you're asleep. So go to bed, Fred. His name's not Fred, by the way. Stop doing things that are gonna make you go blind and put hair on your palms. Bad man, Bad. What I mean by that? Nothing. I meant nothing. And so I am going to fade into nothingness. Buenas y venins, muchachas and muchachos. It has been another day. Oh, thank God it's over.

Well, now it's time for a few more final words from the incomparable chef, Mr. Anthony Bourdain. Be open to experience. Be willing to try new things. Don't have a rigid plan. Accept random acts of hospitality without judgment or fear. Don't be afraid to wander. Don't be afraid to eat a bad meal. If you don't risk the bad meal, you never get the magical one. Cream rises. Excellence does have its rewards. Look at your waiter's face. He knows if he likes you, maybe he'll stop you from ordering a piece of fish he knows is going to hurt you. I often talk about the Grandma rule for travelers. You may not like Grandma's Thanksgiving turkey. It may be overcooked and dry and her stuffing salty and studded with rubbery pellets of giblets you find unpalatable in the extreme. You may not even like turkey at all, but it is Grandma's turkey and you are in Grandma's house. So shut the fuck up and eat it. And afterwards, say, thank you, Grandma. Why yes, yes, of course, I'd love seconds. Maybe that's enlightenment enough to know that there is no final resting place of the mind, no moment of smug clarity. Perhaps wisdom is realizing how small I am and unwise and how far I have yet to go. Assume the worst about everybody. But don't let this poisoned outlook affect your job performance. Let it all roll off your back. Ignore it. Be amused by what you see and suspect. Just because someone you work with is a miserable, treacherous, self serving, capricious and corrupt asshole shouldn't prevent you from enjoying their company, working with them, or even finding them entertaining. And if you want to order and have something delivered to you to eat tonight, just because your delivery driver is also a miserable, treacherous, self serving, capricious and corrupt asshole shouldn't prevent you from showing some goddamn gratitude and respect by tipping your deliverant as generously as humanly.

Hey there. Thank you for listening to the Deliverance podcast. If you appreciate what you've just heard. I hope you'll consider supporting my podcast with a financial contribution. It's easy to do and can be in any amount from a dollar to $50 and you can subscribe or just tip the show one time. Whatever works for you. To leave your donation, just follow the link here on my podcast page to my pinecast podcast account or find me on the Internet at the Deliverance podcast on Pinecast.com thanks so much again and Happy Trails.