Home > Critic-At-Large > At Your Doorstep

At Your Doorstep

By Chris Colcord

Fort Wayne Reader

2018-11-16

During the Christmas shopping season in 2017, it was easy for people in my neighborhood to see the influence of Amazon Prime on American retail. Our addition is of relatively modest size — basically two circular, winding streets and one outlet street out of the neighborhood — and traffic is almost non-existent. But last winter, there was a steady influx of delivery drivers in our neighborhood, even at surprising hours — one day we received a package before 8am, and that same night another package arrived around 9pm. A good 60% of our neighbors (I would guess) seemed to be getting deliveries as well, for virtually every day in the two weeks leading up to Christmas, our addition was clogged with a constant stream of new vehicles.

Even our neighborhood kids had to abandon their usual hockey-in-the-street hybrid game that they play every winter, just because they got tired of stopping and starting every time a new vehicle encroached their area. (They use hockey sticks, but instead of a puck, they try to slap a volleyball into the net. Nobody in the neighborhood gets too upset by the
games in the street, by the way; it’s nice to see kids engaged in outside stuff, creating games and rules on the spot. The ringleaders, two brothers aged 14 and 9, have parents who don’t allow video games.)

But increased traffic seems to be the price Americans are willing to pay to have free two-day shipping on most purchases. The popularity of Amazon Prime (100 million subscribers, in 2018) underscores the changing dynamic of shopping habits, especially during the holiday season. The nostalgic notion of packing the kids up and staring at big,
snowy, downtown store windows is totally obsolete, though it’s beguiling to watch “A Christmas Story” or listen to old Fort Wayners talk about Wolf & Dessauer’s and think that it could happen again.

It’s tempting for older generations to wring their hands at this new paradigm as well, thinking that the poor kids of today are being deprived of some essential bit of childhood or Americana. But I’m not so sure about that; my kids absolutely love it when the doorbell rings in December, or if they hear a thump at the door from a delivery service. They like looking at shopping websites as well, with what I imagine is the same enthusiasm they would show at the store. And while I’m idealistically a pack-em-up and haul-em-around guy, even for boring errands, I have to admit it’s nice to get stuff without having to schlep the kids everywhere.

I have a friend in San Francisco who absolutely detests Amazon Prime and won’t use it; he won’t use Uber or Lyft, either, and for the same reason: the increased traffic from the services has made travel in his area of the city nearly impossible. His anecdotal rationale was supported by a study conducted by transportation analyst Bruce Schaller, who found that ride-hailing services in dense cities causes an overall increase in the amount of driving on city streets, often by striking amounts. Both Uber and Lyft maintained that their services would actually reduce congestion in cities, but the facts show that the opposite has occurred. Traffic is worse now, nationally, because of the services.
There’s a part of me that sometimes feels guilty when we receive a package at the door, and it usually happens when I get a good look at the Amazon Prime driver. All the drivers are hustling-for-a buck types, working stiffs that are driving cars that are a little worn and probably need more maintenance than they’re getting. I know the advertisements for delivery drivers always make it seem like the gig is a fun, safe way to make some extra money (for people who might not need it but are, you know, bored), but it looks like a pretty tough job to me, and I can tell the drivers are stressed to complete their routes.

And I admit I’m uncomfortable with the notion of paying people to do something for me that I ought to do myself; I know the “gig” economy is a viable sector for job growth, but it never makes me feel right. I could never pay anyone to walk my dog, to clean my house. Seems wrong to me. Get a manicure? Forget it. If I want these things done, I should do them myself. (And if I ever want a manicure, someone please shoot me. ) And while I’m well aware of the “life is short” argument, it still doesn’t seem like an enlightened existence to burden someone with your minutia, whether you’re paying them or not.

I hate being a class warrior, too, but it’s hard to escape sometimes, especially when you see middle-class and lower-class drivers taking all the risks, getting into all the traffic, jeopardizing their insurance rates and wearing their cars down just to delivery something to someone who doesn’t want to get rained on (or have to take a single step outside.) It’s
never that simple, of course, and I’m generalizing to an insane degree, because I’m no rich cat and yet I have stuff delivered all the time. But the drivers at Uber and Lyft (and Amazon Prime) are hustling to make a living and they get few benefits, while the companies reap massive profits.

I always want to give them a break when they buzz my neighborhood constantly during the Christmas season, but I don’t know how. Tip them? Don’t think that’s right. Offer them coffee when they come to your door? Who knows? Maybe it’s best to just be nice to them, like you should be with all service people. Give them a smile and let them know
that you’re aware it can be a rough road out there.