…and the piss bottle doth overfloweth…

“um, it’s not, uh, you, um, it’s, it’s m..me…”

Hahaha, I’ve broken up with the third party company that contracts to the richest guy in the world.

I don’t know what specifically pushed me over the edge.  Was it the “morning standup” where the Brand Ambassadors talked to us like we were fucking criminals?  Was it the long hours? Was it the low pay with no understanding of how some routes actually were? I really don’t know but I do know I didn’t want to do it anymore.

You may have heard how the richest guy in the world’s servers crashed on Prime Day.  What you may not have heard about was that the app we use to do deliveries also crashed that day.  I was doing rescues that day.  Rescues are when one driver helps another driver who is falling behind and delivers some of their packages so they can get back on track.  I was instructed to take pictures of each delivery.  I only needed google maps to get me in the general area and then I was able to figure out the routing on my own.

The next day, during the Goolag Interrogation, um, morning stand-up, the Brand Ambassador didn’t even say something like “Good job, I know you dealt with some technical problems on the road.”  They tried showing a “funny” video where an undertrained driver screws up a delivery and berate us not to  “mess up.”  It was hilarious when their wifi wasn’t working and they had to cut the video short.  And then they had us do a bunch of stretches.  I don’t suppose they do this incase a worker gets injured on the job that they can say “Um, I guess that idiot just didn’t do their morning stretches like the rest of us.” And when you are using the GPS on their app an annoying screen comes up that says something along the lines of “Keep your eyes on the road you worthless idiot!” in legaleaze just so they can wash their hands if any one of us “idiots” has a wreck on the road. Of course you have to touch the screen to get ride of that dismissive message. Yo, hands free drivin’ y’all-NOT!!!!

On my final day (yes, I gave notice) the Brand Ambassador berated a bunch of drivers who quit for being “weak.” Gee, is “weak” corporate speak for underpaid??? They also mentioned the package count would be slightly lower than usual because about 30 warehouse people called out the night before.  Methinks this might be the start of some sort of “collective bargaining.”  Of course my packages were all fucked up.  I waited an additional 45 minutes to leave the station because I thought I was missing three or four bags.  Dispatch gave me the green light and I started my route a bit late.  I later found they were mixing bags.  Each bag is “supposed” to be a section of the route. It has a 4 digit tag, for example 3456.  The next one (when they are in order, and they often aren’t) would be 3458.  I would organize my truck so when I pull a bag, I know it is the next group of stops.  Then I would organize the packages on the front seat and envelopes on the dashboard of the van.  So, I discovered that the bags were really disorganized and the bags I thought were missing were actually mixed in to other bags.  Sorting this out cost me at least another hour.  Dispatch called me back to the warehouse as I was on the last bag.  I let him know I could get the last few stops done before dark as I solved the worst of my problems before that.  He still told me to come back with the packages.  Maybe I was about to hit double overtime?  I had to check in with a Brand Amabssador.  I expected he was going to blame me but I calmly explained that my bags were mixed and it made getting everything out on time allot tougher.  Surprisingly he admitted that the bags weren’t supposed to be mixed.

Okay, now that my rant is over, I suppose it is my “duty” as a blogger to talk about the “deplatforming of Alex “The biggest manboobs in Texas” Jones, the corruption of feMRA Horney Badgers or how another creepy male feminist extraordinaire is facing accusations of sexual impropriety.  And on that last one, am I suppose to say that “everyone is entitled to due process” or, I hope the fucker burns because his hatred of low status men has likley pushed more than one suffering man to suicide.  I don’t know, but as time goes by, the blogsphere grips me less and less.  I’m just surprised that some of you guys leave flyby comments after all these beers, eh, years…

Alexa, tell the richest man in the world to lend me $500!!!