Gig work, such as the Postmates deliveries I'm currently doing, is a completely different animal to all the other denizens of the working world zoo I've encountered.
First of all, I'm self-employed (and a sole proprietor ... lol whatever exactly that means), so I'm paying more taxes. I won't have any actual numbers until February 2020 but my reading into the matter has led me to conclude that it'll amount to between twenty-five and thirty percent of my gross; as a wage laborer I would only pay about nineteen percent after the Earned Income Tax Credit, and by claiming three instead of two withholding deductions. I just recently talked to an IRS representative over the phone, and apparently I'm expected to file quarterly but ultimately what matters is that I have money set aside in a separate account at the end of the year — and that I make sure it's enough, as in probably around thirty-two percent of my gross. I don't drive, so I can't claim mileage for deduction purposes, which is unfortunate, but at the same time I'm not paying for gas and insurance, and maintenance and repairs are pretty cheap if I can keep my bike out of the shop.
From a straight fiscal perspective, that means if I want to earn the equivalent to say thirty weekly hours at minimum wage (soon to be $12.50/hour here in Portland), I'll need to gross about $550 hours a week, or about 105 deliveries (calculated at $5.25 average total per, including tip). No way in hell am I doing 17.5 deliveries a day (six days a week)! lol Least of all in the lean, brittly and blusterly cruel months of winter. At my most fit and motivated I'd do sixty deliveries a week, for $215 gross, or $925 monthly. The equivalent to twenty-one hours slinging Dippin Dots at Blazers games and concerts.
That's a lot of waiting around on call and a lot of weary miles ridden, a lot of maintenance and repairs, and a lot of exposure to the elements and to danger in traffic, for the pay ... but it's the trade-off I chose to make when I realized I wasn't cut out to slog through stadium customers. I set my own hours, don't have to wear a uniform or a smile — just look somewhat normal and keep the snarls tucked away inside — and there's no politics because there's no direct supervisor or any crew I'm a part of. I'm also not killing my legs and hips standing on that hard Moda Center concrete. But, I work harder for less money, am still lacking in career prestige in most circles, and that rotten King John is crawling up my bum! Also, I'm so autonomous, I feel about cut off from society as I did when I slept on loading docks and recycled for fast food and beer money; and so it's proving to be kind of tricky being responsible about my job.
I hardly even run into other delivery folk when I'm in Engage Number One! mode, so it's a strangely lonely existence as a member of working society. Which alienation is slightly exacerbated by the cold dismissal of many cashiers and servers, who probably rightly view me as a threat to their livelihood (not to mention I'm a lost opportunity for a tip). Not that I'm all about solidarity or community, but it's easier to feel accountable and like a contributor when you're unmistakably part of the working-world biomass instead of some shadow flitting in between the branches. So, just to give you an example, if I wanted to I could grab a six-pack of the Beast and crack one open in between deliveries in various parks ... maybe get lucky for a few weeks before I get into some asinine altercation or run down by a motorist because I'm drunk. At the very least, I wouldn't get fired that day.
Really, though, all I'm worried about is screwing up filing and paying my taxes, getting into a bad accident, or my bike getting trashed or stolen. I'll sort out the lifestyle conflicts eventually, and since the government's paying my rent I can even afford to get lazy about running deliveries whenever I feel stressed out or my leg joints get crabby on me (ugh! winter!). Besides, I haven't completely given up on wage slavery — I'm confident I'll have a steady part-time job by next summer. lol As in one that I'll keep.
