First of all, I get it.

You’re broke. We all are.

I’m not mad at you. I feel you, which may be surprising to hear from a delivery driver.

And I understand that most of you who order, via whatever platform, are doing it because you’re tired. Maybe you’ve worked a twelve hour shift. Maybe your boss expects you to work into the weekend while he takes his fifth vacation of the year. Maybe your kids are driving you crazy, and the thought of pizza gets them to sit still before bed. Maybe your car broke down on a busy highway, and you’re living in a hotel until you figure out how to get home. Maybe you just want a night in, where you do nothing.

And maybe that $5 tip feels like one more thing you can’t afford. I get it.

That said, I want you to understand something.

That guy or gal bringing you food? He’s tired, too. She’s behind on rent. Maybe he’s driving a car with a busted A/C in 98-degree weather, trying to deliver ice cream. Maybe she’s got kids at home, or maybe they’re reading a book in the backseat because she can’t afford a babysitter. Maybe he’s behind on his property taxes, and trying to keep an auction at bay. Maybe we’re all just trying to figure out how to make it to Friday.

We’re not robots, we’re not AI. We’re not an extension of your phone. We’re people, and we’re providing a service.

When drivers accept your order, we’re taking time out of our own lives, away from our own families, to help make yours a little bit easier. We’re not solving world issues, or developing ways of seamless productivity, but…we are putting miles on our vehicles, dodging deer and drunk drivers, we’re destroying our tires, and buying our own gas, we’re trusting a GPS to takes us into the heart of nowhere and praying it leads to a lit front lawn and a workable driveway, all while giving you pieces of our days that we can never get back.

Many times, that means missing dinner with our own families so you can have dinner with yours. Sometimes that means delivering groceries to a dark home and being forced to flee a startled guard dog.  Or taking long gravel roads, then being chased down by a suspicious neighbor on the way out. Or calling a customer who won’t answer the phone but expects you to find his front door on an unmarked road by deciphering a misspelled novel in the special delivery instructions.

And before I go further, this isn’t about pity. We all have our own struggles. Neither of us knows what the other is truly going through.

That’s exactly the point.

We’re the same in more ways than we are different.

You’d be surprised how often drivers accept a $2 task for a 10-mile delivery, hoping for a cash tip, only to discover it’ll be an extra twenty-minute wait for a $150 order that hasn’t been started yet. And since there’s a communication expectation, you reach out to the customer, informing them of the situation. And instead of receiving a ‘thank you for your time’ or ‘I’ll tip you a little extra for the wait’ message, you get a list of extra requests.

Forty-five minutes later, you arrive at a dark castle with a long driveway, stone pillars, and lawn ornaments so extravagant they could pay off an outstanding credit card balance in full. The only light comes from a television screen in the front window. You get out to check the mailbox with a flashlight, deliver the food, then send an “I appreciate you” text.

All that follows is…crickets.

And then, a mile down the road, the algorithm responds like a late-night ad from the early 2000s, “if you liked that task, then you’ll love this next one.”

Two orders from McDonalds that go in opposite directions: $3.50 for 15 miles!

Now, I realize many will scream “get a better job.”

Fair enough. But here’s the thing: many people rely on that labor.

The elderly needs someone to deliver groceries. An exhausted single mom with a cranky infant still needs diapers. And sometimes a fresh sandwich will keep someone working the night shift from passing out. And if every reliable driver were to suddenly ‘find a better job,’ then those who depend on the deliveries would feel it, too.

I’m not expecting you to admire the job, but I hope you see the value in it.

So, if you can afford to tip, please do, and thank you. Even a few bucks can make a grown man/woman feel appreciated.

And if you genuinely can’t afford it? I get it. I’ve been there.

I won’t assume you’re a bad person or you don’t care, but I hope you remember that someone’s child is on the other side of delivery app. A son, a daughter, a mother, a father, an uncle. Someone probably just as tired, just as broke, and just as anxious to get home.

And, at the very least, a genuine ‘thank you’ costs nothing.

Again, I get it, I’m not mad at you.

Just keep in mind, that some of us toil, so others can relax.

Sincerely,

Me

P.S. To those of you who do it intentionally.

I get it, you think you’ve figured out a work-around, you may even think you deserve it, but here’s the wild part. You’re hypocritical, you are just too blind to see it.

If this offends you, deal with it.

You may claim…

“I’m don’t believe in tipping, so I won’t do it.”

Fair, but here’s where it gets messy.

You are openly benefitting from the system you claim to despise. If you order delivery or go to a restaurant, you KNOW the server/driver is working under the assumption that they will receive a tip for their work.

You are lying by omission.

You know the system, but you ignore it, and are fine with hard-working people suffering in order to get ahead.

And I know some of you are like “NO I DON’T.”

Okay, then tell the driver or the server before they bring the food, “Hey, I’m not gonna tip you.”

But you won’t, right? Why not?

It’s because you know that you wouldn’t be treated like a King or a Queen, it’s because you know (in the back of your mind) that what you’re doing is deceptive and hurts the very people you rely on.

In fact, what’s worse, some of you like to say “I’ll add $20 to the tip if it’s here in 6 minutes” or “I’ll tip you extra for the wait.” And then suddenly after you get the food, all of a sudden, you fall asleep or forget or leave your phone in an attic you just discovered. And then you go on about your day, while the guy/gal you promised to compensate is left wondering…what happened.

You want free labor, and you want free service…in exchange for nothing.

That kind of treatment never goes the way you think it does.

I’m not mad, but don’t play the victim when your meal arrives an hour later, because no one has picked it up. That’s not the driver’s fault, that’s on you.