Interview With A Bread Delivery Man.
I’ve given up on two things.
First up is Facebook.
Not trying to be all woke, I simply switched to a new phone and wondered how long I’d last without ever signing in. It lasted a long time. I check it on the desktop from time to time, but honestly, life is fine.
I have also cut Aesop out of my life.
Two years ago, a friend whose bathroom was nicer than their showroom told me their products seemed ‘off’. She called them up and was told the formula was improved with additional ‘aqua’.
I’ve also heard rumours that working in Aesop’s marketing department, you MUST wear certain colours of attire, MUST use Moleskine as a notebook. (Ok, soap nazi.) That explains why your staff looks identical.
My last straw, was when I asked for the hand soap with the grainy texture last year, the assistant corrected me, in front of my daughter, in the most New Yorker metrosexual tone “erm, it’s called pumice?”
Gee, I didn’t know that’s how you spell micro-plastic.
My brain forced-quit itself.
Did you know, for the longest time Aesop couldn’t enter the Chinese market because, unlike the rest of the world, China demands cosmetic products to be tested on animals?
Aesop launched in China last year. Guess why1.
I’m not an animal lover, but this is just to show everything has a price.
It’s no surprise that it was sold this year for bazillion dollars. L’Oreal is just going to trim the fat out of this business until all that’s left is aqua.
And I have the pleasure to imagine the pretentious Aesop workers with their beautiful cheekbones in their black cardigans and Moleskine notebooks imploding that they’re now simply a part of a global conglomerate.
Erm, it’s called capitalism?
Anyway, life without Aesop is fantastic.
Since last month, I’ve also given up on sleep.
To be precise, two hours of sleep, three days a week.
The alarm goes off at 5am, I’ll snooze till 5.15am, sloth myself to an Aeropress and leave for Brunswick 5.45am.
That’s right. The bread delivery man is me.
I am method writing, just for you.
If you’re expecting an interview, well, I guess I can pretend to interview myself?
Please welcome our guest, Harvard.
<cue intro music>
h: Hi Harvard, thanks for making the time for this interview.
H: No problem Harvard, thanks for having me. Big fan. Love your jacket.
h: No, I love YOUR jacket. So how does one become a bread delivery man?
H: My friend Satoshi asked me if I knew anyone keen on this job. I didn’t, so out of politeness I offered myself. And he took it.
h: Do you have to go through any training?
H: I tagged along the driver that was leaving, Mark, one morning like an orientation and he showed me how to unlock the doors, where to access delivery bays, where to look out for parking etc. Funny story, something went wrong with the proofer on the first day of orientation, and baking was behind for two hours. Mark couldn’t make it since he had another job starting at 9am. So I actually delivered together with Satoshi. The first day, straight into the deep end.
h: That’s the best way to learn. So what do you deliver from 6am to 8am?
H: The bakery bakes shokupan for the sandwich shop, and pastry for their cafes. So I collect everything from Brunswick and drive to, let’s see, two cafes in St Kilda, one in the CBD, and finally Emporium, then bring the empty crates back to Brunswick.
h: Why did you do it?
H: Ever seen those self-motivational videos, telling you to wake up early to the gym, and meditate, so you can squeeze more hours out of your days? The only reason I’d try to ‘squeeze’ my day is for more cash. LOL
In a way, moving trays of bread, walking up and down stairs are kind of like going to the gym. Driving alone in early morning traffic is pretty meditative. I return at 8.20 am, just in time to take my daughter to school.
On my way back along Brunswick I always see these white women on the treadmill, doing yoga, or pilates from the shop windows, they should just pick up a part-time job LOL
Some people drive for two hours to work.
My work is to drive for two hours.
We are not the same.
*adjusts neck tie*
Also, it’s an interesting experience. I want to be those old Asian uncles that tell stories like ‘yea I used to deliver bread in the 20s’.
h: Isn’t it hard, waking up at 5am?
H: Initially, the lizard brain part of me was expecting my normal photography work to be disrupted on delivery days, but the brain is a wonderful thing. You can change it after a month so now I’m more productive, posting more on this newsletter for example. I get the extra time to think about what to write and self-edit. Sometimes I listen to podcasts, catching up on the news. There’s a podcast on how to improve Japanese. Or just blast music without the girls.
Sometimes, like today, I wake up at 4am because I try to compensate by going to bed earlier the night before, I just write and whenever I hear my daughter sleep-laughing, I shed a tear or two.
h: What did your family think about you delivering bread? What did your parents think?
H: ‘Finally, a stable job!’ My parents said. My daughter said she wants to come with me one day. My wife thinks life it’s healthy, with a routine and all that.
h: Does it pay well?
H: Including car rental, I’m making more than the average hourly rate of a freelance writer. To put it into perspective, delivering bread an hour pays more than an annual subscription to this newsletter.
h: What?
H: Yea man, don’t write. Just deliver bread. Times are tough, recession is looming. People gotta cut spending and focus on important things like going to Japan, Europe, Bali, attending a Matchbox Twenty concert before committing to their friend’s writing career, you know.
h: Nice passive-aggressive sell there. What’s your fastest delivery time so far?
H: So in the first week, I was really gung ho and trying to figure out the best route and the fastest way, and I did everything in 1 hour 22 minutes door to door. Since we use this app to start and end shifts, I ended up getting paid less than the full two hours! Since then, I just sort of cruise. It kinda clicks now why everyone is taking their time with work, from construction to government, because there’s no incentive to work harder or smarter when you’re paid by the hour. It’s the other way around. If you finish fast, you receive less pay or more work.
h: You enjoying it though?
H: Oh yes. There’re no meetings to decide which is the best way to load the bread, or to get approval on how I load the crates. No client feedback to say can we move the pastry a little bit to the left or to include the brioche a little more. No debrief on how the shokupans felt during deliveries.
Just get the bread in, and GTFO.
Knowing that people depend on you (have you seen how upset people are when they don’t get croissants and coffees in the morning?) and after you’re done, the day’s just started, it’s a good feeling.
And with the extra cash, I can splurge on extra egg tarts and fund meetings and interviews for the newsletter.
h: Like this imaginary one?
H: *cough* There are perks too. For example, Wednesday is roasting day so Ken the head roaster will let me try some coffee beans, sometimes a container of Gesha beans.
If I finish early I will brew a pot of filter for everyone, using these sixty thousand dollar machines. Even though I just follow their recipes, Ken says my brew is always light and clean.
I also get first dibs on the 8am shokupan.
h: Did you … take this job so that you can get fresh bread?
H: *cough* no. But here, have some.
h: OMG that’s sooooo good! Do you have any advice for people who are interested in getting into bread delivery?
H: Sure, you need to possess the drive and ability to lift up to 20 kgs. Excellent customer contact and driving skills. Meet local age and operation requirements to operate a vehicle. Has a car and maybe a master’s degree in English literature, and complies with the bakery’s appearance guidelines. And most importantly, know someone who’s hiring.
h: Appearance guidelines?
H: Yea, for some reason, everyone wears black here.
h: Ookay where’s this bakery?
H: Little Cardigan or Bench Coffee at 38 Breese Street, Brunswick. If you come around 7.45am Wed - Fri say hi and I’ll brew a cup for you.
h: That’s all for today, thanks for -
H: my time, yes, it’s almost like we’re the same person or something.
<outro music>
In four hours I’ve been advised that Aesop still does not experiment on animals. China simply relaxed their rules, that’s why they’re in the market. Hey, I never implicitly said they did. I told readers to ‘guess why’. Legally, I’m totally fine.
I loved this interview thank you!