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Short story By: Jocelynwonders

One day in the life of a courier. Based on a true story.

Submitted:Feb 22, 2013    Reads: 41    Comments: 1    Likes: 1   

It was when I delivered important documents to City Hall that I made my big mistake.

Today I was certain to earn a good deal of money as a courier working on commission because it was the busiest time of the month. Off to an early start, I hustled with the many deliveries assigned to me. Within three hours, I had unloaded enough cargo to earn the amount of cash I made in a nine-hour day, about a hundred dollars. The sun was extra bright today, so I wore clip-on sunglasses atop my regular ones, making it only a bit difficult to see details.

As I rushed toward the glass doors at City Hall, I quickly pressed the button on the wall to open them and went straight ahead. I really thought they were open--until I felt, very painfully, the doorframe hit me in the face!

When I regained consciousness, I was sprawled on the sidewalk and people were looking down at me with concern. Someone helped me sit up, and we stared at the blood splattered on my uniform.

"How do you feel?"

"I think I'm okay. Hurts a little bit."

I picked up my package and headed for the restroom. My Good Samaritan followed me to ensure that all was well, and noted that I was a little dazed, though not confused. Pressing wet, cold paper towels to my face, I stopped the nose bleed, and proceeded to complete my delivery upstairs.

The clerk who signed for the package gave me a curious look and asked me if I was all right. I tried to smile, but it hurt too much--and caused the bleeding to resume. I minimized my situation to her and wished her a nice day. Her concern, however, made me realize that my injury was rather serious and required medical attention. So I radioed Jack, my dispatcher, for permission to see my doctor.

"Come on, man. This is month-end. I can't do without you today," he said, his voice rising with stress.

"I think my nose is broken--I just want it looked at. I don't want the whole day off. I'll be back soon, but now I'm covered with blood, and you don't want me out here looking like this."

"Oh, you're not joking. Go on home then."

When I went to the clinic, the receptionist made sure that my doctor saw me immediately. Familiar with my past mishaps--and there were many of them--he laughed.

"What did you do this time, Trevor?"

"I ran into a door."

He stitched my lip and taped my nose.

"What are you going to do now? I should give you something for the pain, but I know you have to drive home."

"Drive home? I have to get back to work. It's the busiest time of the month. There's a lot of money to be made".

My doctor shook his head as I left and said, "See you next month, Trevor."

At home I threw my bloodstained clothes into the bathtub with cold water and salt to remove the stains. Ichanged into a clean uniformto return to work, ignoring the throbs of pain and anticipating the big bucks I would earn. I radioed Jack and told him I was ready to make deliveries again. Believing the situation was not very serious, he dispatched extra calls to me.

My first job wasa pick-up from a doctor's office in Guildford. The receptionist studied my bruised and swollen face and said, "You're not a regular patient here, but I'm sure the doctor can get you in right away."

I tried to smile, but it still hurt. "No, I'm fine," I assured her. "I'm a courier, here to pick up some files. I've already seen my physician."

Seeing that I had already been stitched and taped, she gave me a puzzled look and asked, "When did that happen?"

"About an hour ago."

"Well, have a good day--what's left of it," she said. She handed me the delivery, and no doubt wondered about my sanity.

Before I finally finished work, I endured many strange stares. I still wore two pairs of sunglasses--now to hide my face. When I met Jack back at the courier office, he stared with shock at my stitched lip, taped nose and developing black eye.

"Let me buy you a beer, pal. I thought you were trying to pull a fast one to get off early, but you put in one hell of a day."

Again, pain stopped me from laughing.

"Thanks for the profitable day. I made some good bucks, but I learned that I should always make sure the door is open first."


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