Job update: I’m a pizza delivery guy

Work has been plentiful as of late, but that doesn’t necessarily mean the pay has been. I get a solid wage from O2 (€10/hour untaxed), but I don’t see that money until weeks after I work my shifts. Yes, this is normal in any capitalistic society, but it kind of sucks for a hungry student. Cue Christoph the hero, the same German bro who got me in at O2. He’s working for a pizza shop these days, buzzing around the city on a moped to deliver pizzas. He asked whether I still needed more work, and when I said yes, he had me meet him at work one day so I could meet his boss, who liked me.

The best thing about this job is that every single night I work, I leave with a little bit of cash in my hand, from the tips I made that night. I go home and make three neat little piles: savings, bakery, beer store. I won’t get into percentages, the point is that I’m technically saving some of what I make (so I can pay for rent).

Another sweet aspect of the job is my slick pod racer.

Doesn’t that look absolutely pimp? By the way, mine is the red one in the foreground that says “Joey’s” on the side, not the motorcycle behind it under the blue cover. Just want to be clear on that.

Already I’ve gotten to know the city way better, poking around in neighborhoods I’d never have visited otherwise. I also get to cruise by famous places like the Nymphenburg Castle, which evidently is all lit up at night. In general, I’d say any city looks different at night than it does at the day, and different from the streets than it does from the sidewalks. (I’ve also had the pleasure of delivering to lawyers working late at night in an office building, the view from which definitely offered a perspective on the city I hadn’t before seen.)

I know I shouldn’t have been snapping pictures while still on the moped, but go to hell, it was fun. Plus the camera wasn’t mine, I’d borrowed Jesse’s, and so dropping it while at a stoplight and leaning over on the moped only to have it tip over and crush both my leg and the camera didn’t seem all that horrifying a prospect. Or something. (No jokes about the moped not being heavy enough to crush my legs. I have very slender, brittle legs. Any girl would love to have these legs.)

Last, I like my biker getup.

So if you weren’t jealous of the free beer, food, and cocktails at my other job, please be jealous of this. I thrive on it.

Zoom.