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Mihai Moldovanu,
A short story about a bike courier
working for a food delivery app
They drop their Lexus, their Mercedes-Benz, their Toyota-Ford access keys on the table and close their eyes for 20 minutes. A cocktail that varies from person to person but consists mainly of a low dose of cognitive-enhancing drugs and a collection of minerals and vitamins is introduced intravenously. Every morning the cognitariat connects to their designated machines for their necessary compounds. A new day has started and it’s a new opportunity to improve yourself, the repetitiveness and fakeness have slowly become normalised. Everyone still remembered those times when people used to want something else, like some kind of change or something, but it is clear now that it’s not happening, certainly, they thought. Everyone adapted to the situation they were in, concentrating on the pleasurable parts of their daily routine; the morning masturbation before work, the naughty chocolate with triple espresso. But Andrew prefers going to the gym, he shapes every inch of his body to his desire and unlike the messy world outside, in the gym, he is in control.
Andrew is not from a rich, or even a cognitariat family, which means that he has to «earn a living». Otherwise, he’s left to slowly wither away on the streets, getting harassed by cops and yobs until he dies. He is a delivery driver by profession and by necessity. That morning He felt his body stank, reluctantly he goes to have a shower. Somewhere in the past, he stopped experiencing his body as an extension of himself, instead, it became something like the propriety of Deliveroo that he has to service. His day begun like most usual days, after smoking a spliff and going through the same talk in his head on why he should not just stay at home, he takes his bike out into the freezing morning. On the intersection of Albany and City, Andrew sees two white guys walking like some mythical gods exploring their kingdom. Their muscles move their T-shirts, revealing the shape of their pectoral muscles and biceps. If only I could ask them how much they lift, he says with a sense of regret. He moves across the landscape like some perverted bird watcher, mentally measuring the width of people arms and chests. Andrew hasn’t always been obsessed with muscles, one of his first interests has been video games; nothing abnormal, just a few hours of gaming on his ppc (personal portable computer) after school and before school and a few during school . On their brakes he and his friends would talk about how much of the new hot game they’ve gone through, there was always an implicit competition between them. On the road, the hierarchy was clear to him. Couriers came under the white van lads, the white van lads although underneath the cognitariat, were rebelling through illegal driving manoeuvres to attack the structure. At the top of the road hierarchy were the all-black Range Rovers and Lexuses that were passing the couriers no more than an inch away to maintain the hierarchy from crumbling.
The sun-light was slowly dimming until it disappeared. The unconscious bodies of overweight office workers and horny divorcee populated the streets of the city centre. They are hungry for sex and excitement, two things that are lacking in a full-time office life. He looks around and he thinks to himself «this city is old; this city is tired; In the past things were happening here, but we’ve all missed them.»
Hey… Andrei (he almost forgot the name that was given to him by his parents)
Hey Natalie, whats’up?
Nothing just having a bad day
How many orders did you make? (he asks)
Fuck knows but it’s not enough (she replies). Anyways, any plans for this Friday evening? (she smiled and looked right into his eyes)
I was invited to a thing, but I don’t know almost anyone there and I’ve got some weed in my bag right now, sooo I guess you know the answer.
Why don’t you come other for a smoke? (he said)
After a bit of silence and a glance into each other's eyes, they continued the conversation.
People should start eating or we’re going to starve, it’s supposed to be a fucking eco-system of commodity exchange.
So you’re a Marxist? (she asks)
Not really I’m a kind of a guy who doesn’t believe politics can solve this, it’s all in our genes, we’re programmed to self-destruct at a certain age anyway, hence ageing, it’s just that we’ve got a bunch of cool toys to do it faster and more efficient with.
Wow, that’s kinda bleak. (she smirked while getting a bit irritated at his ignorant monologue)
…
See you at 2 at mine?
Yeah sure, see you there.
For a moment the bleakness of the world has lifted, the led signs started glowing more bright and the zipping by of the ebikes wasn’t so annoying.
This week was a bad one, just like the one before. The size of his pay-check at the end of the week makes the difference between booking an hour with the online shrink or going without for another week. It made him feel good when he made a regular sum of money and it made him feel vulnerable and anxious when the sum was less than average. But it’s not entirely his fault, his mates always flexed their pay statements on their ppc's; they used app glitches, gps blocking applications, third party ppc attachments, bigger electric motors, all to undercut one another. Andrew always found it amusing how they decorated their machines in 18th-century ornaments and they sang with pride their national anthem when they got drunk. He never wanted to make the most money out of them, he just wanted to make an average amount. That’s what always separated Andrew from his colleagues, he doesn’t care what country he’s in or the amount he’s made, all he cares is muscles and some good weed. As he is passing through an old neighbourhood he imagines the lives people had lived long before his, “It’s all repeating itself” he thought. This sense of him not being the first human to have experienced the meaninglessness of existence has given him a sense of release. Ever since he became an atheist the world has changed for him. Andrew has been trying to explain to himself why he should not kill himself, in his childhood and early teens the world had a well-defined purpose, the universe exists to allow humans to prove themselves to god, or else burn eternally. Now that the universe is one endless, godless desert, a kind of a giant experiment in particle physics, he can’t but feel another lump of particles in this experiment.
As he opens the outside door to the shared corridor, a smell of 19-century house hits his nouse. He opens the second door to what looks like a slightly wider than normal entrance hall and a small kitchen unit attached to the room. He can barely afford this apartment but it’s his source of pride and self-worth, not everyone has a private kitchen unit. As they start smoking he feels the room change colour and shape, things he never thought of before came into clear focus just to drift away again. He starts feeling awkward, he feels like it was a mistake. “I don’t even know her” he protested in his head; He wonders what she is thinking of. They lock eyes and she leans in for a kiss, they take their uniforms off, with their corporate logos on their jackets and t-shirts. Now, stripped naked, they felt part of something bigger, in an almost violent embrace of passion they reconnected with something forgotten. The second hit revealed secrets to them that they were denying themselves the knowledge of. What they felt that night was something that seemed to trivialise everything else that was happening around them.
Andrei, We could have such beautiful lives. (she speaks with a silent voice and a pinch of excitement)
I know things are bad, but we’re still lucky you know. I’ve seen one of those fugee ships once at the shore. (she picks up his ppc, passes it to him for the biometric scan and opens up his MeLife page)
You know how easy it is to trick a child, it’s predatory right, the difference in intelligence that’s what makes it wrong. The algorithms know you so well, It can understand what you are going to do long before you decide to do it.
Andrew smiled at the girl at the counter, her request was barely audible from the constant beeping and moaning of the machines. She asked him his order number, he told her, and for a second they exchanged a smile of solidarity, he felt less alone. It was another cold night but the orders didn’t stop coming. The speed of the city, the unpredictability of the flow, the anticipation of the fat payout at the end of the week, gave Andrew a kick of adrenaline similar to the days he was doing speed.
Cowbridge is a narrow and busy street, traffic is slow, with many ped crosses and traffic lights, it’s a perfect slalom course. He jumps a red light, sprints across an intersection and joins the other half of the traffic, he bolts effortlessly between lanes. Eventually, he slows down behind a bus, for a moment enjoying the warmth of the exhaust gasses, and the pleasant smell of burnt diesel. He’s full of adrenaline but he’s calm at the same time, he loves this state. As he crosses onto Atlas Rd, one of the main artery that carries most of the traffic from the western suburbs, he uses the slightly downhill shape of the landscape to gain more speed, his feet are now moving at least 200 rpm. At the next intersection, he moves to the left to check the oncoming traffic from the right, zips through another red light with enough momentum to carry him up a sloping bridge and down to his destination. Andrew’s body slams into the road, he’s confused. A woman stops her car and asks him how he is with a put on worried voice, when she hears his accent she becomes more distant. He gets up and continues to the restaurant. He loved how tough this job made him, after getting in a few accidents, this fall felt like nothing. «It’s gonna heal in a week or two» he thought, «that's the advantage of the organic other the machine.» Online people are discussing another general strike. One post sticks in his mind, «the tyrant can’t rule without the consent of his subjects the prince will have no one to rule if he murders most of his people.»
I’ve got nothing to lose, I’m depressed most the time. My house is a shithole, (he admits reluctantly) besides the overpriced weed, that I could grow myself, I don’t have anything to lose.
Look, come see me and some of my friends at this pub this Thursday at 8.
On the far reaches of the work-map, he met IRL with Natalie for the first time in a while.
How’s life?
Good, feeling good after coming first at the easter alley cat yesterday, where were you?
Oh yeah, I thought it was sometime next week. (Andrew lied, he was on the forums again)
You're not getting sucked into the web I hope? I’d feel guilty.
No, no. But thanks for installing all that shit. He wants to tell her so much more but he abstains as she seems cold today. (she got the order and after a small nod, left the restaurant)
He arrived on time, he couldn’t see anyone, but after a bit, an austere looking guy waved to him from one of the tables, at the table other people with Deliveroo bags were seated.
Did you hear about the general strike?
Yeah (Andrew replied unenthusiastically for some unknown reason to him)
What do you think?
I don’t know, is there any point?
It’s going to be the biggest general strike in the history of this country (the bold guy answered frustrated). Anyways you can join our brigade, we’ve heard you’re an alright guy. (he changes the topic abruptly)
On the forum, the activity increased considerably. Besides the more serious discussions there were the usual trolls, the sceptics, the right-wingers who came to preach the free-market gospel. Capitalism’s era was coming to an end and everyone felt that.
It’s Saturday morning, he went out for a stroll before the meeting with the brigade, It was one of those heat waved, polluted mornings, that felt more like midday then morning. All the cognitariat had probably already prepared their cooling suits for their summer vacations. He was happy she was there. And she was smiling at him a lot. They met in an old garage behind city road, one by one everyone was getting kitted out with a helmet, an umbrella to stop projectiles, gloves, a cheap breathing mask and some protective glasses. Everyone came in black clothes as they were advised.
Alright, so they probably gonna try and move us off the roads in the first half of the day. We gotta stay there no matter what. (he spoke, punctuating every word) And if we manage to keep a few main arteries under our control the city is dead. The more it stays like this, the more money the city loses. And remember this is not happening only in Cardiff.
I’m ready. (says Andrew)
Me too. (says Natalie)
They join a crowd of a few hundred thousand people, they came from all around Wales to show their frustrations. They play music and party for a few hours, then the police try to move them off the roads. Natalie gets her foot broken by a tear gas projectile; she gets stamped to death by the police horses. Andrew holds the streets with his brigade for another 2 months, they’re all motivated by Natalie’s death. While he was in the shop looking to get some beer in order celebrate the parliament starting negotiations with the delegates, he gets arrested. In the refugee camp, he gets beaten to death and later dumped along with a dozen half-alive Fugees on the French coast. Later the government agreed to most demands of the protestors. By some estimates, 5 million people protested by shutting down all the major motorways, coal plants, ports, banks, corporate buildings and so on. Refugees were being accepted onshore from that day. All the concentration camps were closed and the guards fired, an investigation into the people involved in the management and upkeep of camps has started. The government introduced price caps on most food goods and rent, the MetLife algorithms were stopped. The corporate tax grew from 20.5 percent to 80 percent, and major coal plants were planned to be shut down in order to slow down climate change. New ideas started flourishing, everything was full of vitality. New political parties started gaining popularity in the opinion polls. Some of the people involved in the negotiations started a new party, their main goal was to automate production and share the benefits with everyone.
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1 Mihai Moldovanu, 2013.
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