This morning, I was informed by the automated dispatch messaging bot that, due to my not accepting today's assignment within the sixty minute window (I was still sleeping), my dispatch offer had expired. I thought little of it. An unexpected day off meant working on some applications for decent jobs and even a hike with my mother. How so silly I can be.
Not silly of me to be flexible regarding temp assignments as 'easy come, easy go'. Rather, silly to have assumed that such an automated system would be at all competent at its job. Sure enough, as the meet time came and passed, I received multiple phone calls asking me where I was.
"Ah, well, I will be there in an hour's time, then"
And my day's plans reverted. Such is a commonality of the modern temp job.
It was just after I delivered some computer parts to "Daddy Long Dick" that I attempted some break to eat. Attempted that is, until I realised I had forgotten to pack a lunch. Well, I elected to do as such, actually. Feast leftovers will taste better at a table, after all. But the hunger was getting to me. Delivery drivers seem to have little going for them in regards to rest and hygiene habits. The Sheriff's Office where I meet with my driver to transfer packages was closed for some reason today, so no restroom breaks were likely for me. Ditto lunch breaks, but that was of my own choosing. Besides, I had already signed a lunch break waiver earlier during orientation. At the Union's recommendation, at that!
Such frustrations were getting me down until The Delivery for the day occurred. It was a delivery to package code #8344 - address ▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓ - and it was two sizeable boxes. I scanned the barcodes, placed them in front of the door, took the necessary photo, and announced myself as "United Parcel Services" as I departed.
Not three steps away I hear a high-pitched squeal. Not one of danger, but merely of dangerous enjoyment. The kind a young lass, just seeing her material dreams materialise on a cozy Friday afternoon cannot refrain from ejecting.
As I turned back, I was faced by the largest, brace-filled smile on any fourteen year-old's visage in the whole of this valley at the time. We lock eyes, and she cannot but help to blurt out an eager "gracias" as her and her father begin to bring their new treasures inside.
The way this here society consumes is sickening, to be sure; it is a consequence of decadence of an unhealthy order. But it also spreads some sickeningly rich amounts of genuine smiles in its wake. And though I did not catch his expression, I imagine, in his heart at least, the father was beaming just as wide as his daughter. All thanks to the Beige packages delivered by the Beige Man on behalf of that Beige Company.