"Here's what astonishes me: sometimes those with the most are the least generous. One DoorDash shift, I delivered a $40 order to a family in an upscale neighborhood - almost a 20-minute drive from the restaurant, with homes easily worth over $1 million. They tipped $3. After accounting for the distance from the store to the customer's home, I made the equivalent of $8.50 an hour for that Panera run."
"I worked hard to reach the level I was at, starting as an administrative assistant, finishing my college degree, and climbing the corporate ladder. I was proud of my work and proud to be an executive. I decided the best approach was to divide my time between applying for new jobs and finding side work to stretch my savings. I signed up for both DoorDash and Rover, knowing people who had used them successfully. The gig work was eye-opening, to say the least."
"Now, I was delivering people's lunches and dinners - all because one person decided to eliminate my job. One person. One decision. I wasn't prepared for that gut punch, or for the cashier at a store where I was picking up an order who unknowingly voiced my shame: "You don't look like a DoorDasher." I started gig work to stretch my savings"
An unexpected 10-minute video call eliminated an executive position, prompting a split between job searching and gig work to conserve savings. The writer signed up for DoorDash and Rover to supplement income and quickly encountered revealing contrasts in human generosity and dignity. Deliveries to wealthy neighborhoods produced tiny tips while small orders for lower-wage workers yielded proportionally larger tips. A cashier's comment intensified feelings of shame. Rover house-sitting offered different rhythms but similar realities of precarious income. The experience exposed inequities in tipping behavior, the emotional impact of sudden unemployment, and the practical need to combine job applications with short-term gig work.
Read at Business Insider
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