David Rayfield's career path took an unexpected detour from the predictable confines of air-conditioned offices to the perilous and unpredictable streets of Melbourne as a food delivery cyclist. After facing redundancy four times in just six years, he found himself among the growing ranks of the gig economy, trading corporate restructures for the open road—and a significant culture shock.
The Violent Reality of Life on Two Wheels
The plan was simple: use a bicycle to earn money. It wasn't to get assaulted or see the city from a terrifying new perspective. Rayfield recounts a shocking incident where he was punched in the ribs by a skinhead while waiting on his bike, an attack he initially mistook for a bird strike. The confrontation escalated, revealing the vulnerability of his new role. This wasn't an isolated danger. His new workplace, a network of roads and bike lanes, presented constant physical threats.
He collided with a car door opened without warning, leaving him with a face full of bitumen. His knee was torn open when his wheel caught in a Melbourne tram track, and he watched helplessly as an earpod was crushed under a truck. "My attention needs to be on 10 different things from one second to the next," he explains, describing a state of hyper-vigilance that leaves him mentally and physically exhausted after every shift.
Independence Versus Insecurity
Driven by financial necessity after months of unsuccessful job applications, Rayfield sold his Xbox to buy a mountain bike and signed up with Uber Eats via his phone. The autonomy was immediate and profound. There were no managers, no office politics, and no fear of redundancy from a faceless corporation. He could choose his hours, take long lunches in the park, and soundtrack his shifts with Wu-Tang Clan.
Yet this freedom comes at a steep cost. The financial rewards are low and unreliable. Uber Eats uses gamified bonus systems—like offering an extra $72 for completing 30 deliveries before a Thursday—but these are sporadic and location-dependent. The pay is a stark trade-off: "Granted, my wages are much lower, but what value can be placed on listening to Wu-Tang Clan with wind in my hair versus dreading another company restructure?" he muses.
A City Built for Cars, Not Cyclists
Rayfield's experience has given him a visceral understanding of urban planning priorities. He notes the immense space dedicated to cars, from shopfronts facing roads to pristine asphalt, while cyclists navigate potholed, metre-wide lanes squeezed between moving and parked traffic. He observes a stark societal divide: while most customers receiving their McDonald's or KFC orders are friendly or even apologetic, cyclists—particularly those on delivery bikes—are often treated as the lowest form of life by drivers.
Ultimately, Rayfield views delivery work as a "Band-Aid on a broken leg"—a temporary, unsustainable solution. The jury is still out on whether the freedom and outdoor activity outweigh the sizzling heat, the risk of serious injury or death, and the financial insecurity. It's a role that offers a unique connection to the city and its people, but one that highlights the profound challenges and inequalities embedded within the modern gig economy.
