PROC Guide to Complete Invincibility for Food Delivery Cyclists
They made you buy your own branded kit, insist you are not an employee, don’t give you any benefits, holiday pay, sick pay or even give you the minimum wage but you’ve still queued up like a spring lamb in an abattoir to bring lazy people their dinner so surely your paymaster has made sure you’re safe on the roads, right?
Food delivery companies say it’s up to individual riders to ensure their safety on our roads so, based on what we see everyday in Cork, if you’re thinking of taking the proverbial soup, read PROC’s guide to being a “proper” food delivery rider.
The Dark Ride
It’s winter in Cork. The evenings are dark, the weather is dreary and drivers’ windscreens are fogged up but the last thing you need to worry about are having some decent lights on your bike. This is because all Cork motorists have infrared vision and a sixth sense that some invisible langball on a bike is speeding up on their inside as they check their rain soaked, half broken, wing mirrors. And sure isn’t the glare off the phone fixed to your handlebars bright enough anyway?
Some helmets weigh as much as a portion of fried basmati rice or a tub of butternut squash soup so why would you bother wearing a helmet when you could just not wear one and carry more grub? Duh! Makes total sense, yeah?
|Who needs a helmet? If you end up a house bound paraplegic after an horrific head injury, sure you already know a pretty good home delivery service!|
And to fully convince yourself you don’t need to protect your vulnerable skull when cycling around Cork always remember that no young person has ever died or ended up eating through a straw for the rest of their life as a result of a bike accident.
Except for the ones who have but you don’t know them so they don’t count. When someone suggests you should buy one, use the classic argument winner: “helmet schmelmet”.
For maximum ignorance when cycling on the roads it’s important to wear large Bluetooth headphones that completely cover your ears while you zip around Cork’s busy streets. Turning ‘Baby Shark’ up full prevents the incredible negativity of motorists horns from wrecking your buzz. You are living the ‘flexible working’ dream. What a time to be alive…and not in a cemetery.
Red Light District
Under section eleventy thrifty two of the Road Traffic Act 2018 all food delivery cyclists are exempted from stopping at traffic lights. Specifically the law actually says “C’mere, don’t mind that red light there lah, sure you can’t be killed by a bus because you’re too busy to be dying, like”.
This means you can fly through a red light at a busy junction even with high speed traffic coming from both your left and right – there’s always a tiny gap to slip through and with your headphones up full you don’t need to worry about the sound of roaring mad drivers, blaring horns and tires screeching on the wet road to avoid mashing you to a pulp.
One Way Streets
The key to understanding how one way streets work is that they are one way in the direction that you want to go. In fact, you wouldn’t be a proper food delivery feen unless you have cycled at full speed against the traffic on Patrick’s Quay in the rain, without any lights, on the Friday night of the jazz festival.
Path of Least Resistance
If riding on the street doesn’t suit you then mount the pavement even if it means clipping buggies, wheelchairs and giving elderly men angina. Little do these ignorant pedestrians screaming at you know that you are on an urgent mission to bring a snackbox to a hungry gamer in Glasheen.
The big yellow stickers on the back of buses warning you about overtaking them on the inside are put there by “The Feds” (man) who want to slow you down and stop you making money (man).
|Pana dilemma: that gap is so tempting.|
If you’re hesitating about undertaking a double decker as it swings into Grand Parade at the top of Patrick Street, think about what your customers would want: Is it more important that you deliver this sandwich quickly or try not to be turned into one yourself? “There’s serious coin to be made,” we hear you say.
Yes, feen. You’re DEAD, right.
A nil-all borefest between two mid-table hoof merchants or a nail biting, do-or-die grudge match between arch-rivals vying for a top half finish?
Just what you needed to make you feel worse about your dizzying hangover and your half-baked new year's resolutions to get fit....