Michael's Courier Service
1984-1985

Fresh from a physically demanding outdoor job in Seattle, I had returned to give cycling another try. In the best shape of my life, I interviewed and was immediately hired by manager Joe Ganim. He ran a tight outfit, knowing his crew was the elite. His bikers made serious money. This time around, instead of a motley crew, I joined the prestigious ranks of the fastest, most professional riders in town, many of whom were avid mountain bikers and road warriors who traveled around the globe to tour exotic locations. I have to admit I loved the work, especially the interesting clients we served. I derived more pride and satisfaction than anticipated and the joy of handling more money in a week than I had seen in a month was intoxicating. I worked for them for more than a year, making the best money of my life. I finally lost an inconsequential, generic press release from the Department of Agriculture. When I realized this, I rode back across the mall and replaced it on my own initiative.  The receiving party had neither requested nor missed the delivery.  I was told not to worry about it, but others, hearing about it on the radio channel, went to work plotting my dismissal. I was unfairly fired and left to a series of less satisfying courier jobs. It was never the same cycling for lesser companies afterwards.

US. Express
1985
I next rode for U.S. Express and ironically ended up working for Calvin, my former dispatcher from years earlier when I  worked for Central Delivery. Despite favorable connections, I couldn't make close to the same money as MCS.

Allstate Delivery Service
1986
I then switched to AllState Delivery Service. This was significantly better, as I had the potential to earn triple scale doing triple rush deliveries. This was outstanding for a while, but eventually the flow of money tapered off.

Grace Courier
1986

Last, but not least, I joined Grace as their only bike courier, who had but one client downtown, the Federal Deposit Insurance Corporation (FDIC). This was a weird situation. Most days I waited for the daily multiple release, in which the American banks that had failed each day were announced to all the Press Club members and other news organizations around town. It was a strange irony profiting from the profligate excess of the go-go 1980's savings and load scandals. Tom Wolfe wrote about this era in his book Vanities of the Bonfires.

End Game
1987

I knew intrinsically that this business eats up and spits out workers. Given enough exposure time, something would eventually happen. I'd seen it. If you weren't hit by a car door, bus, taxi or pedestrian and rendered a paraplegic, the streets would wear you down. Eventually, if one avoided all the other perils, one would inhale enough toxic pollution to contract lung cancer. I quit while I was ahead of the game, wise enough to know that money wasn't everything and relocated to Tucson where I would begin a new career in computers. The names and places are fading from memory, but the images and experiences of courier work will last a lifetime.