Memories of a globetrotter: The job of his dreams

Many people complain about parcel delivery drivers. But what does a parcel box really think about its life?

What haven't I seen and where haven't I been? I am a carrier by profession, and I have to say that it is not so much a job as a vocation. When I was very young I was sent to a house with a mission and ended up staying there for a long time. I was fit, you know, and still full of energy.

I have enjoyed the journey and have met so many colleagues to talk to. I am in very good shape, I have extremely tough skin and I am above average height, I would say. This has helped me immensely in my career because these qualities are very useful in my job. Nobody wants to just do a job and then languish in a dark corner somewhere; the world is far too interesting and adventurous for that.

I couldn't wait to prove myself. Colleagues had told me how wonderful it was to travel, see and learn so much. Of course there are injuries. I've seen veterans with bandages so thick you'd think they were just held together by the tape. But that's the price you pay; when you achieve something, you can't look smooth and young forever. So when I finished my first job – the people were very nice – I was put on hold for a while. It was Christmas and there was quite comfortable accommodation in the house, where there were others like me. I can't say that waiting was too difficult for me, because I like company and I like to hear interesting things.

I have to admit that I've learnt a lot from more experienced colleagues who have been around the world a few times. There's no envy or competition between us; life is too short for that. Besides, nobody wants to risk getting hurt because it's bad for business.

The snow had already melted, I remember, when I was called out and given a new job. I was tingling with excitement, but you don't show that in our business. Then I set off on a wonderfully long journey from one end of the country to the other. And when I arrived, I was greeted with such joy that it really warmed my heart. There was a stop to rest, but it wasn't long before I was sent on my way again. And since then I've been on tour after tour, sometimes carrying extremely fragile items and sometimes all sorts of unnecessary stuff – variety is the spice of life in this profession.

I can say that I have seen the inside of some elegant homes, and I have also been smeared by children and splashed with coffee. I could tell you a few stories: There was this ill-mannered dog who actually lifted his leg at me as I entered the hallway. The owner was very embarrassed and shooed the unruly animal away, muttering: 'I'm going to need him after all.' Another time a cat felt the need to test my outer skin with its claws. And I remember with horror the children who attacked me with their crayons. Sure, there's nothing wrong with being colourful, but you should have seen the tattoos they gave me. I didn't have to worry for long though, as the ever-changing bandages covered up the quickly fading 'works of art' over time.

I even managed to get my dream job at a very large auction house. From then on the orders came thick and fast. No sooner had I delivered my goods than I was entrusted with new ones. There was no rest for the wicked. Once I even entered a house for the second time – the recipient couldn't remember me, of course, but I remembered him.

But lately I've been feeling tired, my health isn't the best, and I wish I could take a break between jobs to rest and chat with colleagues I meet in the houses. It used to be different; I couldn't wait to get back on the road. Just yesterday, when I was given a lot to do, I heard a woman say: 'This one is really falling apart, but it should be fine this time.' I was shocked at first, but I know she's right. So this is my last job, my last trip. But I'm not complaining because I've had a long career.

Not many of us last so many months, in my case over a year, faithfully and carefully doing my duty. Some of us have only one job in their lives and then they go to the big shredder. Or they vegetate alone in an attic for a long time – no, I'm much better off. My life has been fun, adventurous and fast, always in the fast lane, and I've seen so much. But soon I'll be resting for good. And my advice to the young ones among us is this: if you want a good life, if you're willing to take risks and like to move around, become a parcel box.

© 'Memories of a globetrotter: The job of his dreams': A short story written by Winfried Brumma (Pressenet), 04/2025 (German: "Erinnerungen eines Reisenden: Der Traumjob"). Illustration: Thomas Alwin Müller, littleART.