Thirsty for an ice-cold, fresh-squeezed lemonade on a hot summer Saturday in Istanbul, I open up the KapGel app. Lo and behold, free fresh lemonade in the specials!
Although both the lemonade and the delivery for specials are free, the app requires a credit card for registration. The app crashes when I enter my debit card on an iPhone 4. I realize that I need to register a credit card with the app on an iPhone 8 to take advantage of the specials. Desperate for juice, I message a friend at KapGel to order on my behalf. My lemonade is going to be late, he says, orders are exploding! I can deliver today, I offer. So begins my day as a KapGel hero courier!
I speed walk up Istiklal Avenue, squeezing past the throngs of locals and tourists, and cross Taksim Square, which continues to look harsh and ugly despite the grey brick makeover underway. I catch a bus and ride a couple stops. The office entrance does not line up with a crosswalk so I jaywalk across the street, grip the trunk of a giant beech tree, and climb over the metal fence at the meridian.
At the modest startup office, a KapGel desk support guy on a laptop greets me. A clear glass refrigerator is filled to the brim with 500 ml glass bottles of Tazedirekt Taze Limonata. At the sight of all of this lemon nectar nirvana, my mouth drools. KapGel couriers track the pick up and delivery of orders from the Android app. I click the rocket button but it fails to light up from grey to orange. I seriously need to get the latest Android and iPhone for this courier gig. This means that I cannot confirm the pickup and delivery of each order under an hour. Well, glitch or no, the KapGel deliveries must go on! As a backup option, we coordinate the orders via email. Thank goodness for 3G for on the go pick up and delivery! Happily, I can rely on Google Maps for the first order, even though it often misrepresents locations in Istanbul. Luckily, my first customer orders lemonade to Bomonti near Osmanbey. I stash the bottle in my backup and rocket out of the office.
Out in the bright sun, I jostle through a sea of strangers crowding the sidewalks so that I can deliver the product within an hour. Unfortunately, pedestrians do not walk in single file lines that I can easily pass in a fast lane. I find myself wishing I knew stunts so I could run up walls and flip over clusters of tourists. Parkour should be mandatory training for couriers, I decide.
When I finally reach the address, I ring the doorbell and walk up the spiral staircase to the top floor, greeting the customer and his dog at the door entrance. I hand him the lemonade. He smiles, saying it is his first order, and asks what else he can order from KapGel in the future. Well, I recommend that he try custom orders of fresh fruit and vegetables from the Feriköy-Şişli Ekolojik Pazar near his house. He could also order coffee from his favorite coffee shop or anywhere, really. Perhaps I look out of breath listing all of the possible products because he invites me inside to take a break. Thanks, I say, but I may have more orders coming in soon.
I sit outside on the curb for a moment when I receive a custom order of venti latte with non fat milk, a triple chocolate chip cookie (just one, really?) and a cold turkey sandwich from a nearby coffee shop to a residence in Ortaköy. I start to panic because (1) the buses to Ortaköy crawl slowly through traffic on the narrow, winding roads from Nişantaşi through Beşiktaş, (2) the address is located somewhere in hard-to-reach Ortaköy, and (3) coffee cups always spill all over me no matter how hard I try to keep the precious cargo steady. I call the KapGel desk guy, and he advises me to take a taxi to the merchant and then to Ortaköy. It is a last resort because all of the other couriers with bikes and cars are already taken.
I sprint down Rumeli Cadessi, skip the Vali Konağı branch that is under construction, and continue through the metal detectors and up the escalator at City’s Nişantaşi. As a courier in a rush, I now despise people with their hands on their hips and elbows sticking out, blocking my path. When I reach the Starbucks line, I ponder what an unbelievably great deal that KapGel customers get through saving the time and energy of picking up food and drinks. I would pay someone just to stand in line for me, let alone for the pick up and delivery. When I reach the counter, the cashier confesses that the triple chocolate chip cookies have run out. Stay calm. There is no way that I am delivering this order without a cookie so I compromise on a plain chocolate chip one, no doubt the less popular kid on the block. I give the paper bag one more visual check before heading outside.
After roaming a few blocks, I finally find an available taxi around Teşvikiye. On the road passing through Beşiktaş we call the KapGel desk to check on the address. I expect the upcoming version of KapGel to include pin drop address locations on Google Maps for more specific directions. Swerving around curves in the road, hot coffee bubbles up out of the sippy cup lid and plug. I swear as the paper bag begins to get a bit soggy. The driver stops again at the Ortaköy taxi stand for more specific directions. I feel better knowing that even the taxi drivers with mental maps of Istanbul still stop to ask for directions of unfamiliar neighborhoods. Then, we call up the customer to confirm everything. The driver swerves across the road, cutting off a bus, and heads uphill to the site. I count my lucky stars that I always buckle up in these daredevil death metal traps even when it means lifting the backseat and pulling out the dirty buckles.
Finally, we reach the destination. The customer opens the door just a crack to take her order. I hand over the paper bag, apologizing profusely about the leaky coffee. As a consolation, I give her a free bottle of lemonade. Oblivious to all of the trouble that I faced to deliver this order, she does not tip. Sigh. I acknowledge that as an amateur courier I did not achieve the speed and quality of delivery service expected of me. I realize how KapGel takes on the hassle to give customers smooth convenience.
I ride the bus back to Taksim Square with a new appreciation of the delivery service that KapGel provides. I probably will not quit my job as a private English teacher and become a fulltime KapGel courier in Istanbul anytime soon. I do, however, have a lot more respect and empathy for KapGel couriers braving the streets of Istanbul, and will certainly tip well whenever I order from them in the future.
Originally written for Kapgel
Although both the lemonade and the delivery for specials are free, the app requires a credit card for registration. The app crashes when I enter my debit card on an iPhone 4. I realize that I need to register a credit card with the app on an iPhone 8 to take advantage of the specials. Desperate for juice, I message a friend at KapGel to order on my behalf. My lemonade is going to be late, he says, orders are exploding! I can deliver today, I offer. So begins my day as a KapGel hero courier!
I speed walk up Istiklal Avenue, squeezing past the throngs of locals and tourists, and cross Taksim Square, which continues to look harsh and ugly despite the grey brick makeover underway. I catch a bus and ride a couple stops. The office entrance does not line up with a crosswalk so I jaywalk across the street, grip the trunk of a giant beech tree, and climb over the metal fence at the meridian.
At the modest startup office, a KapGel desk support guy on a laptop greets me. A clear glass refrigerator is filled to the brim with 500 ml glass bottles of Tazedirekt Taze Limonata. At the sight of all of this lemon nectar nirvana, my mouth drools. KapGel couriers track the pick up and delivery of orders from the Android app. I click the rocket button but it fails to light up from grey to orange. I seriously need to get the latest Android and iPhone for this courier gig. This means that I cannot confirm the pickup and delivery of each order under an hour. Well, glitch or no, the KapGel deliveries must go on! As a backup option, we coordinate the orders via email. Thank goodness for 3G for on the go pick up and delivery! Happily, I can rely on Google Maps for the first order, even though it often misrepresents locations in Istanbul. Luckily, my first customer orders lemonade to Bomonti near Osmanbey. I stash the bottle in my backup and rocket out of the office.
Out in the bright sun, I jostle through a sea of strangers crowding the sidewalks so that I can deliver the product within an hour. Unfortunately, pedestrians do not walk in single file lines that I can easily pass in a fast lane. I find myself wishing I knew stunts so I could run up walls and flip over clusters of tourists. Parkour should be mandatory training for couriers, I decide.
When I finally reach the address, I ring the doorbell and walk up the spiral staircase to the top floor, greeting the customer and his dog at the door entrance. I hand him the lemonade. He smiles, saying it is his first order, and asks what else he can order from KapGel in the future. Well, I recommend that he try custom orders of fresh fruit and vegetables from the Feriköy-Şişli Ekolojik Pazar near his house. He could also order coffee from his favorite coffee shop or anywhere, really. Perhaps I look out of breath listing all of the possible products because he invites me inside to take a break. Thanks, I say, but I may have more orders coming in soon.
I sit outside on the curb for a moment when I receive a custom order of venti latte with non fat milk, a triple chocolate chip cookie (just one, really?) and a cold turkey sandwich from a nearby coffee shop to a residence in Ortaköy. I start to panic because (1) the buses to Ortaköy crawl slowly through traffic on the narrow, winding roads from Nişantaşi through Beşiktaş, (2) the address is located somewhere in hard-to-reach Ortaköy, and (3) coffee cups always spill all over me no matter how hard I try to keep the precious cargo steady. I call the KapGel desk guy, and he advises me to take a taxi to the merchant and then to Ortaköy. It is a last resort because all of the other couriers with bikes and cars are already taken.
I sprint down Rumeli Cadessi, skip the Vali Konağı branch that is under construction, and continue through the metal detectors and up the escalator at City’s Nişantaşi. As a courier in a rush, I now despise people with their hands on their hips and elbows sticking out, blocking my path. When I reach the Starbucks line, I ponder what an unbelievably great deal that KapGel customers get through saving the time and energy of picking up food and drinks. I would pay someone just to stand in line for me, let alone for the pick up and delivery. When I reach the counter, the cashier confesses that the triple chocolate chip cookies have run out. Stay calm. There is no way that I am delivering this order without a cookie so I compromise on a plain chocolate chip one, no doubt the less popular kid on the block. I give the paper bag one more visual check before heading outside.
After roaming a few blocks, I finally find an available taxi around Teşvikiye. On the road passing through Beşiktaş we call the KapGel desk to check on the address. I expect the upcoming version of KapGel to include pin drop address locations on Google Maps for more specific directions. Swerving around curves in the road, hot coffee bubbles up out of the sippy cup lid and plug. I swear as the paper bag begins to get a bit soggy. The driver stops again at the Ortaköy taxi stand for more specific directions. I feel better knowing that even the taxi drivers with mental maps of Istanbul still stop to ask for directions of unfamiliar neighborhoods. Then, we call up the customer to confirm everything. The driver swerves across the road, cutting off a bus, and heads uphill to the site. I count my lucky stars that I always buckle up in these daredevil death metal traps even when it means lifting the backseat and pulling out the dirty buckles.
Finally, we reach the destination. The customer opens the door just a crack to take her order. I hand over the paper bag, apologizing profusely about the leaky coffee. As a consolation, I give her a free bottle of lemonade. Oblivious to all of the trouble that I faced to deliver this order, she does not tip. Sigh. I acknowledge that as an amateur courier I did not achieve the speed and quality of delivery service expected of me. I realize how KapGel takes on the hassle to give customers smooth convenience.
I ride the bus back to Taksim Square with a new appreciation of the delivery service that KapGel provides. I probably will not quit my job as a private English teacher and become a fulltime KapGel courier in Istanbul anytime soon. I do, however, have a lot more respect and empathy for KapGel couriers braving the streets of Istanbul, and will certainly tip well whenever I order from them in the future.
Originally written for Kapgel