‘Exhausted’ delivery drivers an Omicron lifeline
Demand for meal delivery services has tripled during the current outbreak, and Sinead Gill discovers some Kiwis say they have nowhere else to turn for food.
Before Covid-19, for many households, getting a meal delivered to your door used to feel like a luxury.
Now, it is an essential service. Across the motu (country), hundreds of drivers are dropping off food and supplies for thousands of Kiwis who are stuck at home after being exposed to the Omicron variant.
These delivery operators are critical workers – without them, an enforced stint at home could quickly spell misery.
Enter James Whelan, a 23-year-old Dunedin local with a car that wouldn’t be out of place on Castle St. The delivery driver, working for Kiwi company Delivereasy, was new to the job but not to hospitality.
Whelan’s working life has been spent behind a bar. He used to love the customers and the challenge, but Covid-19 created an environment of uncertainty, and the noticeable shift in people’s behaviours made the job harder.
‘‘With confusion comes a bit of anger ... I completely understood people were a bit agitated, but it put too much pressure on the workers.’’
He said the face-to-face that he’d loved was suddenly a public health risk. Even if someone wanted to argue the rules, ‘‘you can’t just anger people or tell them to bugger off’’.
‘‘Job security was a big thing on my mind. You find your job can be shut down just like that . . . Now, I’m a critical worker, so
even if there was another lockdown, if restaurants are open, I’m able to get out on the road.’’
Friday was Whelan’s threeweek anniversary on the job. He began during the University of Otago’s orientation week.
On his first night, despite the expected fumbles of a first shift, he delivered 22 orders in four hours.
Over O-Week, Dunedin’s Covid-19 case numbers rose from the low hundreds to more than 3000.
Whelan said colleagues who drove pre-pandemic had told him 19 deliveries in a whole shift was considered rare.
‘‘There are a bunch of variables, like how many people are ordering, what you get allocated, how well you know your way around, if you hit every green light . . . you could average up to six orders an hour.’’
The job was very independent, he said. He hasn’t met the other 150 or so drivers, and applies social distancing during pickups.
‘‘You get a lot of repeats, especially with the most popular places it can be lonely if you don’t have time to talk to people.’’
Not that he’s complaining; Whelan said he earned $40 an hour before tax.
He said burgers were by far the most popular order, but every day was different, and sometimes Chinese food was the mood of the day.
While he drove, he listened to the radio. No personalised playlist – he needed to save his phone’s battery for Google Maps.
Once Whelan accepted an order, he was given the name of the profile that had ordered.
‘‘You don’t see their address until after you’ve actually picked their order up. Before then, you will have a rough idea of where you’re going, but like, the suburb.’’
He once picked up an order, only to discover the destination was his own flat.
‘‘I took the opportunity to run in and give him [his flatmate] breakfast in bed, but he was on the stairs waiting.
‘‘Most people are in the window waiting for me to arrive, so I’ll give them a wee wave, but then can deliver contactless at the door.’’
Students said it seemed like everyone they knew was isolating. If one person in a flat had Covid-19, they all had to isolate, and many flats had over six occupants.
Hannah Williams has six flatmates, and if it wasn’t for one flatmate arriving late to Dunedin, so they could do a final big shop, she said they would have struggled to stay well-fed.
‘‘It was really hard. Basically every flat I knew in Dunedin was isolating.
‘‘Everyone went tunnel vision: ‘How do we get food’?’’
Student Molly Oldershaw previously told Stuff between her flat of nine, no one had a friend or wha¯ nau close by they could ask to do a supermarket shop – they were either out of town or isolating themselves.
Countdown offered a delivery service, but it was soon booked out. Oldershaw said they turned to delivery companies.
Cathy, a mother of three in her 30s who did not want to share her last name, said she went to the supermarket before finding out the results of a PCR test.
‘‘I couldn’t afford to get takeaways every night. I thought wearing two masks and sanitising would make it OK ... I know it was bad, but it [Omicron] happened so fast.’’
She returned a negative test, but said when her eldest child later became positive with Covid19, she didn’t want to risk it again.
She estimated a spend of $70 a day to top up food they already had in the house.
‘‘I had to borrow money ... I made it work. We had staple food, tins, in the house. Like, if I
bought meat-only dishes from a restaurant I could divide that and add the rice myself.’’
Countdown’s online ordering system had been overwhelmed by the Omicron wave, but Lara Squires, head of Countdown’s online orders, said the period of time when Dunedin students couldn’t get a delivery slot was an anomaly.
She said isolating people in most cities, including Dunedin, could arrange a contactless pickup. People could also be added to their priority assistance list for deliveries.
‘‘About 20 to 30 per cent of our orders every day are for our most vulnerable,’’ she said.
It’s not just isolating people ordering food. Whelan said people didn’t want to risk not getting a table, or getting Covid, and preferred the comfort of home.
Delivereasy CEO Nick Foster co-founded the company in 2016. It now operates in 27 cities and towns across the country.
He said from the success of similar services in the United States, it was clearly only a matter of time before Kiwis would want that kind of convenience.
‘‘Covid really turned the needle up,’’ Foster said.
‘‘At the start of level 3, we tripled overnight in demand. We were inundated with restaurant inquiries. Because of Covid, people who wanted restaurant food had to get it delivered. Some people were already using apps like ours but people, especially older people, it was the first time they used us.’’
Foster said Delivereasy’s demographic had typically been middle-aged customers, or those with incomes comfortable enough to afford the delivery costs.
He said the tripling of demand resulted in a tripling of delivery drivers. In Dunedin there would be around 150, but they needed more.
Many nights of the week the app closed early simply because their drivers were exhausted.
Even Foster, who was based in Wellington, had to get behind the wheel on the odd occasion, particularly if people were off sick: ‘‘Desperate times call for desperate measures.’’
Foster was aware that other delivery businesses were starting or expanding, and said he welcomed the competition.
Many nights of the week the Delivereasy app closes early simply because their drivers are exhausted.