One is not in the habit of getting into X's threads. Not for anything, just out of disinterest in the merchandise being handled. However, this week I was entertained by one that fueled a fairly plural debate, a luxury in these times.
The fact is that a guy or woman, who cares, published on his account the photo of the sign that he had hung in the elevator of his property. He described in several paragraphs the “shame” he felt for having as neighbors people who ask, on stormy nights, for dinner to be brought home by a delivery man on a bike “who risks his life.”
He received responses like frying pans for getting involved in what others are doing and on top of that, preaching, first in the community elevator and then in the tweeting corral. She paid for her petulance. But the guy or girl was not wrong in pointing out a certain responsibility of whoever pays for the service.
The existence of Glovo, and so many other applications born from the work underground, has more to do with demand than with supply. It is much more comfortable for someone else to go get the food you have ordered just 400 meters from home than for you to go. There is logic to this, it's just perverse. For two reasons: one, you turn an unnecessary service into an essential one; and two, because at that moment you are giving delivery platforms the opportunity to consolidate a model that enshrines a precariousness that seems like a form of slavery.
Even with the rider law of 2021, Glovo allows freelance contracts. From there, some argue that workers can decide what deliveries they make and at what price. It follows, therefore, that it is up to the delivery person and not the customer, who pays for a service designed to make their life easier. Do you have a bad conscience for calling them? Leave a tip.
Others maintain that this model draws a virtuous circle of unhealthy conditions for riders. This begins because companies do not regulate when you can or cannot go out with your bike and ends with angry calls if the food arrives late or incorrectly or, worse, with contempt for the bearer of the bundle.
Which brings us to us. I haven't called Glovo in years, not even for the consolation of the delivery person charging something. And you?
