Pizza delivery maumelle ar

So i work as a pizza delivery guy and i use google maps all the time, I need to know if i can check my navigation which i put through my Phone in real time, and Will the battery Last for like 10 hours ?

I work part time as pizza delivery guy with a scooter, i check google maps frequently on my Phone which is not good most of the time, so i Wonder if i can utilise a galaxy watch for navigation, i want to enter navigation on my Phone and check it on the watch in real time, is it possible?

directions. Shouldn't they know their zone? What did pizza delivery drivers do 30 years ago. They learned their neighborhoods and not once did I receive a call that I can't find your place.
Just an observation.

I was the first person from my family to go to university and, as I packed up my car and got ready to leave home, I felt proud and excited.
There was sadness as well. I would miss my parents and still wondered what might have been if Mary-Beth and I had stayed together.
She was my first love and it still hurt that we’d broken up. Even as I started the car and turned to give my parents a goodbye wave, it was her I was thinking of.
I focused on the road ahead. I would see my parents again when I came back for a visit at the end of term. And no doubt I’d see Mary-Beth around town then as well.
Though hopefully not with Todd, her new boyfriend.
It was warm, clear day in early September as my hometown slipped away behind me, and I was soon on the interstate with the radio on. I’d meet plenty of girls at university, I told myself, and turned the music up.
The campus I would be studying at was on a city centre site and I had found accommodation in a student residence close by. After a long day’s drive, I reached my destination, parked up and climbed out of my car.
My back was aching and my neck was stiff from all the hours behind the wheel but, as I stood on the sidewalk and took a first look at my new neighbourhood, I soon forgot about my discomfort.
There was a myriad of stores that seemed to sell everything under the sun. And I could see at least half a dozen bars and restaurants within a few minutes’ walk. I was not old enough to go in the bars and from the looks of the restaurants I doubted I would be able to afford to eat in them. But that wasn’t the point.
They were pulsing with life, the whole street was, and it was infectious.
Then a police car sped past, its siren blaring. I was in such a good mood this felt exciting rather than worrying. In my small hometown the sound of a police siren after dark would have set off a chorus of barking dogs and twitching curtains. Here, I seemed to be only person who was paying any notice to it.
Even the busker across the road had not missed a note in his enthusiastic rendition of an 80s classic as the police car passed. It had charted when I had still been a glint in my parents’ eyes, but it was one of those songs that endured.
The busker hit an especially high note and coins clinked into his open guitar case from people walking by.
Someone was filming the busker as well. A young woman, maybe a couple of years older than me. Her long dark hair hung almost to her waist, and I only realized I was staring when she finished filming, turned round and glanced at me.
I felt my cheeks colouring, looked down at my feet and sensed rather than saw her walking towards me.
“Hey newbie,” she said brightly.
I looked up.
She was very pretty, and she was smiling at me, so I needed to say something dazzling and funny and cool.
I failed.
Instead, I said, “Hey. Err… How do you know I’m new?”
She turned to my car and replied, “From the number of things packed into your car that were clearly put there by parents. Top tip: it’s not worth the effort of carrying most of those things up to your room.”
I grinned. I knew exactly what she meant. I had boxes of groceries that I could have bought when I arrived, but my mom had insisted I bring them just in case.
She had not specified ‘in case’ of what. Possibly a zombie apocalypse that left the city stores all out of canned soup and toilet rolls
I grinned sheepishly and replied, “It won’t be too bad. I can use the elevator.”
She threw her head back and laughed. “The elevator. That hasn’t worked since I moved in.”
I knew that my room was on the eighteenth floor and the prospect of having to get everything up that many stairs was stressful but, on the plus side, this gorgeous young woman was going to be one of my neighbours, so life was not all bad, I figured.
Especially if I could get to know her better.
“Uh,” I said. “In that case, maybe you could give me a hand carrying my stuff up. We could maybe go out afterwards and I could buy you a coffee as a thank you. Or a pizza,” I added hastily, thinking how weak a coffee sounded the moment the words were out of my mouth.
She laughed again. “Good try,” she said. “See you around. Maybe.”
With that she was gone, letting herself into the student apartment block with a swipe card.
I stood there still smiling for a minute then took a deep breath and started unloading my car.
What felt like an absolute age later, I collapsed onto the bed in my new room surrounded by boxes. I was exhausted and, as my eyes closed, I thought how all I wanted to do was sleep.
Which was the moment the music started up.
It sounded like it was coming from the room directly below mine. A bass beat that felt like it was making my entire room shake.
I lay there with my eyes open, now wide open.
All my neighbours were students, so it was no surprise really that there was music blaring out.
I checked the time on my phone. It was ten pm. So, late for sharing your tunes at volume but not completely unreasonable, I decided.
I sighed and rolled off the bed and decided to unpack. Hopefully soon, the music would quit, and I could get to sleep.
Four hours later, just after two am, the music finally stopped. I was so relieved and lay back down on the bed. The quiet was bliss.
Ten minutes later I heard a door slamming and voices in the room next door. Then a new sound system started up. I pulled a pillow around my head and wished the world would just go away.
At some point, the party next door must have ended, or I was so tired I fell asleep anyway despite the music. When I woke, I felt bleary and was not sure where I was. I blinked and looked around at the half-unpacked boxes and the strange room and remembered.
I rolled off the bed and went to get breakfast.
There were plenty of places to eat with prices that would not break the bank scattered among the more upmarket joints that offered artisan bread and organic everything.
After bacon, grits and a stack of pancakes drowned in syrup, I started to feel human again despite my sleep deprivation, and opened up my laptop.
Classes started in a couple of days and I had a reading list I had barely started, but I had a more pressing concern.
I needed to find a job to make ends meet. The weekdays would have to be set aside for my studies, but that left nights and weekends for earning money.
I had already emailed my resume to hundreds of organizations based in the city but had either heard nothing back or received a standard anonymous response. I checked again and there was still no positive news in my inbox.
Well, I wasn’t going to give up. I couldn’t afford to!
And, now I was here in the city, I could take a more direct approach by calling in person into offices and shops and bars and asking to speak to a manager.
I set off full of hope but, after hours of trying, I had achieved nothing. I was left thoroughly deflated. It had been humiliating.
With the sun starting to set in the sky, I slumped down onto a bench tried to think of alternative ways to earn money. Perhaps I could volunteer for medical experiments and risk developing mutant powers? Or perhaps sell an organ? There must have been something I did not need.
I was wondering if leaving home had been a mistake when I noticed a sign in the window of the building opposite.
The building at first glance looked derelict and the sign was just about visible under smeared-on dirt. It read Delivery Drivers Wanted and was handwritten.
It was massively uninspiring – but I was desperate.
I got to my feet and went to look for an entrance to the building.
I found a door round the back in an alley, and broken glass crunched under my feet as I walked up to it. I pressed the intercom and, when there was no answer at first, I spoke into it: “Hello. I saw your sign.”
There was a crackling sound then the door buzzed open.
Here goes nothing, I thought, and went in.
I found myself in a shabby reception area. An air conditioner rattled, and flies circled a dusty light bulb that hung from the ceiling. There was a desk in the centre of the room with no one sitting at it and an open hatch in the wall behind it. Next to the hatch there was another door. One, presumably, that would take you into the rest of the building.
I noticed as well that there was a strange smell in the room – a rank odour that made me want to put my hand over my nose and mouth.
I was wondering what it was, when the door in front of me opened and a man walked in.
He brought a wave of the fetid smell in with him.
From his odour and the way he looked, I don’t think he must have washed or changed his clothes for months, maybe years. His hair was greased into a side parting and his fingernails were caked with dirt.
Worse was to come. “You here about the delivery driver job?” he asked, and his breath carried across the room and hit me in the face.
I should have said, It’s all a mistake. Then I could have got out of there and back into the relatively fresh air of the city. Car fumes would have never smelt so good.
But I said, “Yes.”
“Do you have your own vehicle?” he asked.
“Yes,” I managed to answer while trying not to gag.
“Good,” he said. “When can you start?”
Through the mental haze caused by the assault on my senses, I wondered if that was it? What about my resume? What about references? Did he need to see my insurance and license?
Feeling flustered, I asked, “Do you mean, I’ve got the job?”
“Yep,” he replied. “After you make each delivery, come back to the depot and I will pay you cash in hand. I’ll go get your first package now.”
With that he went back through the door. His smell lingered.
A couple of minutes later, a small brown cardboard box with an address handwritten on it appeared in the hatch.
The man peered through after it. “I got just one rule,” he said. “Do not ever look inside the package. You got that?”
I gulped and nodded and picked up the box.
Back outside, I took a moment to try and regain my composure.
I was both grossed-out and delighted.
Grossed-out because that dude had some serious personal hygiene issues, and delighted because I had found a job and one for which I would be paid in cash as soon as I delivered the package I was holding.
Time to get busy, I told myself and hurried over to my car. I put the package on the passenger seat and set off.
My maps app directed me to an area of old one- and two-story houses tucked away behind high rise offices. They appeared to be abandoned. There were piles of rubble as well in places, that made me think the houses here were in the process of being demolished. That seemed inevitable. Once they were cleared, this would be a prime location for new residential developments.
Until then, it was Gloomville, and I spent a while driving up and down the old streets, trying to read house numbers.
Finally, I found the house I was looking for and parked up outside it. The paint on the wooden boards of the house’s façade was peeling away and all the windows were boarded up. But the number next to the porch matched the one on the package.
Telling myself this must be the right place. I picked up the package from the passenger seat.
It felt sticky underneath.
I lifted it up and looked at the base. A dark stain had spread out over the cardboard. Something inside had leaked.
And, much worse, whatever it was, had leaked all over my car seat.
I cursed. Hoping I wouldn’t have to spend my fee for the delivery on getting my car cleaned, I climbed out of the car and carried the package up to the house.
It was only when I was at the front door that I noticed the package was still leaking.
A blob of dark liquid dropped from the base and landed on the ground next to my feet.
It wasn’t just leaking, it was dripping. I looked back along the sidewalk. I had left a trail of dark droplets between my car and the house.
My first delivery was going downhill and fast. I wanted to hand over the package and get out of there before things could get any worse.
Only, if I rang the bell and handed over the package, the person I gave it to would realize straight away it was damaged.
They’d refuse delivery. Would start demanding compensation. And I wouldn’t get paid.
I couldn’t let the scenario that had played out in my head happen, so I put the package down, then rang the bell, and made a hasty exit.
It was a lousy plan B, but it was all I could think of.
I was almost back at my car when I heard the door open. I crouched down and looked back.
The door hung half-open. There was no light showing from inside and, at first, no sign of anyone there.
Then a hand reached out. Its fingers were long and bony and its fingernails were overgrown and twisted.
These curled, almost claw-like things, scraped over the package and then began to draw it in, into the house and the waiting darkness.
The door closed. I was left crouching there, wiping away a bead of cold sweat which had trickled down my face.
I opened the car door, got in, started the engine and drove away. It had been a very unsettling experience.
By the time I got back to the depot, I was almost feeling better.
When the man who had hired me handed over my payment, I felt a lot better.
“That’s great,” I told him, putting the bills in my pocket.
“Whatever,” he growled. “Be back here tomorrow night. And don’t be late.”
I smiled and headed off.
Back at my student accommodation, I traipsed up the stairs. This time I did not even make it through my front door before I heard the loud musing blaring out. It seemed to be coming from at least three directions.
Resigning myself to the fact that every night was party night where I now lived, I let myself into my room and lay on the bed.
I got no sleep this time and, when I saw the sky lightning with the approaching dawn, I got up and went out to see if I could clean the stain off my car seat myself.
As a street cleaner rattled past in their truck, I popped the lock and leaned in.
In the growing light of the new day, I could now see that the stain was dark red, and I had an awful feeling I knew what it was.
I’d only ever seen this much blood on crime shows on tv, but there it was, soaked into the fabric of the seat.
My shoulders slumped. No amount of scrubbing with a wet cloth and soap suds would get it out.
I got my phone out and was searching online to try and find out how much it would cost me to get the seat cleaned professionally, when I smelled a pleasant fragrance behind me.
I turned and saw the young woman from the evening before. Her long hair was elegantly plaited and she was wearing running gear. She also looked fresh and full of energy.
I rubbed my face. When I’d glimpsed in a mirror before coming outside, I’d seen the dark patches under my eyes. I was exhausted and looked it.
Yet, she had clearly had a good night’s sleep.
I was about to ask her how she did that – but she was peering over my shoulder at the passenger seat.
“Wow,” she said. “Did you murder your passenger last night?”
I was shocked at her accusation and said with a catch in my voice, “N… No.”
Then I saw the cheeky smile on her face.
“I’ve got a job as a delivery driver,” I told her, “And one of the packages leaked.”
“What was in the package?” she asked.
I really hadn’t considered that. I’d been too stressed at the time. I scratched my chin and said, “Raw meat, perhaps? Something rare that you can’t get in a regular store.”
“Could be,” she replied, then added, “Anyway, I need to get going. See you later.”
With that she jogged away.
I went back to looking for a solution to my ruined seat.
After thirty minutes clicking and scrolling, I did not find anything that I felt I could afford, so decided to leave it for a while.
I had a lot of other things I wanted to get done. I needed to arrange my student photo I.D., register with the university library, and spend some serious time on my reading list.
The day passed quickly, and I was feeling pleased with myself as I set off for the depot.
I’d put a towel over the seat so I would not have to look at it, and ‘out of sight out of mind’ was working for me as I pulled up outside the depot.
The miasma of stale armpits and worse met me as I was buzzed in. The man was on the other side of the hatch with a package ready for me. It was around the same size as the last one and looked sturdy enough – and dry.
I wanted to ask if it would stay that way, but to do so, I would risk altering him to what had really happened with my last delivery.
So, I grinned and said, “Great.” Then took the package out to my car.
When I saw that the address written on the package was for a regular apartment block in a good district, I felt reassured that this was going to be a breeze. The journey was easy, and I found a parking space on a well-lit street.
I checked all sides of the package and, relieved to see nothing had leaked out, I put it under my arm and went to find a soon to be satisfied customer’s front door.
There was no answer on the buzzer for the number on the address, so I tried a couple more until someone let me in. The interior of the building was clean and smelt of air freshener and the elevator was working.
I caught it up to the fifth floor, stepped out into a pleasant passageway, and found the apartment I was looking for.
I pressed the buzzer and knocked but there was no answer.
Not a problem, I thought, I’d just leave it outside the door.
I put it down and smiled – and the package moved. It rocked slightly from side to side.
I blinked and rubbed my eyes. I was tired and must have imagined that the package had moved. Surely?
It rocked again, faster this time, and I heard a dull thud come from inside.
I frowned. I wasn’t imagining this. There seemed to be something inside the package, and it was stirring.
A louder thud sounded, and the package jerked to one side. Whatever was in there was exerting some serious force.
The package rattled and shook. The thudding was constant now. And then the package broke open. It was a small split, just below where the address was written on.
I instinctively took a step backwards.
A second break appeared in the package, close to the first, and something emerged through it.
It was dark and sharp and was moving from side to side.
It looked like some kind of limb – and another one was beginning to break free from the first split.
And another – this one from a tear in the base of the package.
As I watched with a mounting sense of horror a dozen dark limbs appeared from inside the package.
Some probed and twitched into space. Others found the floor and, slowly, uncertainly, they began to crawl. Propelled by the legs of the things inside it, the package began to head towards me.
I tried to run away, but I was so freaked out I tripped myself up and ended up sprawled on the floor. I looked up and saw the hideously animated package was almost on me. One of its limbs was flickering against my sneaker.
I did not hear the elevator open, did not realize someone had stepped out from it, until I saw arms reaching down and lifting the package up.
The limbs went into a frenzy, but now they were clawing at nothing.
I looked up – into a face that was twisted with rage.
“What have you done?” the man standing over me demanded. “This rare specimen is to have pride of place in my collection. If you have hurt it, I will sue you!”
With that outburst, he stormed to his door with the package and hurried inside.
I was left still sitting on my backside. “How would you rate your delivery today on a scale of one to five?” I asked the empty passageway then began to laugh hysterically.
I gave it twenty minutes so I could calm down, before driving back to the depot to collect my money.
I found the man waiting once more behind the hatch with a new package.
I wasn’t sure my nerves were up to it and asked, “Do you have another driver who could take it?”
“You do the jobs I allocate to you, or you don’t get paid anything,” he told me with an ugly sneer on his face.
“Fine,” I said under my breath and took the package.
I did not need to look at the address to know where I was taking it because it started to leak blood before I had even got it into the car.
Muttering to myself, I put it on the towel on the passenger seat and set off.
I drove faster than I normally would and arrived at the house in good time. More of its neighbouring houses had been demolished and there was a digger parked up as well. The redevelopment of the area seemed to be picking up pace.
I picked up my own pace, hopped out of the car, and put package down outside the house. Then I pressed the bell and made myself scarce.
I was back in the car when the door opened. I peered over at the darkness revealed.
At the pale figure standing in its midst.
Its eyes were dark voids in its face, its nose was flattened, and its ears rose into sharp tips. It was holding the package in its grotesque grip.
Blood was dripping from the package and, as I watched, the creature’s tongue flickered out and licked the blood. It smiled, showing teeth that looked like shards of glass. Then it retreated back into the house, and the door closed.
I was left terrified. My hands were shaking so badly, it took me three goes to get the key in the ignition and, as I drove away I vowed never to return.
My very short career as a delivery driver was over. I just couldn’t take the weirdness.
When I arrived back at the depot, I did not tell the malodorous man about my decision. I took the money and ran.
Feeling relieved that I’d never have to see or smell him again, I arrived back at my student accommodation.
Even from the roadside, I could hear music blaring out from inside, so I decided to sleep in the car.
I closed my eyes and leant back.
I slept restlessly and when dawn finally arrived, I felt dreadful. I was sitting there, aching all over and feeling about ninety years old when someone tapped on my window.
It was the young woman. She looked more beautiful every time I saw her.
I wound the window down and smiled in what I hoped was an irresistibly handsome way.
“Hey,” she said. “Did you get locked out last night?”
“No,” I replied. “I’m finding it hard to sleep in my room because of all the noise.”
She laughed and said, “Do you want to come up to my room, I have something that will help.”
How could I say no!
Her room was chaotic, with clothes, books and pictures everywhere. She rooted around inside a pile of tops lying tangled on the floor and brought out a small plastic container.
“Try these,” she said. “They’re noise cancelling ear buds. I have the new model so you’re welcome to have these.”
“That’s amazing,” I said. “Hopefully things will get better now.”
“You seem to be doing OK,” she replied. “I mean, you’ve got your job.”
I frowned and told her about the package that had sprouted legs and described the strange figure that I had seen when I dropped off the second bleeding package.
I expected her to be shocked, but she looked excited.
“Wow!” she exclaimed. “That sounds like a vampire, and I love vampires. You have to let me know next time you’re going to deliver to it.”
She gave me her phone number and made me promise to message her.
All thoughts of giving up the job as a delivery driver forgotten, I told her I would, and left her room with a big grin on my face.
That night I headed for the depot building hoping there would be another package dripping with blood waiting for me.
There wasn’t. The man, smelling as rank as ever, told me I had to collect the package from a different location tonight and I’d be given the delivery address for it when I did,
I had zero enthusiasm for this until he let me know where the collection was to be made.
As soon as I was outside, I sent a message:
Hey, I am heading to the vampire’s house now.
Moments after I pressed send, a reply came:
Take me with you!
Yes! I thought and we arranged a place for me to pick her up. Thirty minutes later I was driving through the night with a beautiful girl by my side.
She’d brought a cushion with her so she didn’t have to sit on the messed up cover of the passenger seat and her cheeks were flushed with excitement.
For my part, I had decided to ask her out on a date as soon as I could get the courage and I was desperately hoping she would say yes.
In the meantime, there was the small matter of a package to collect.
I pulled up in my usual place. More houses had been demolished and I guessed the house we were going to was due to be knocked down soon.
I wondered if, perhaps, the strange creature who lived there was moving out because of this.
I must admit, I did not truly believe it was a vampire. It was grade A freaky looking, but that did not automatically make it one of the undead.
Still, I was feeling very apprehensive now the moment to see it face to face again had arrived. I pressed the bell.
My gorgeous companion had refused to stay in the car and had come with me. She was so stoked she could not stand still as we waited for a response.
But there was nothing.
I was about to press the bell again, when she put her hand on my arm and said, “Wait.”
Then she pushed the door. It creaked and opened.
“Result,” she said brightly and stepped inside.
I took a deep breath and followed.
Bugs with far too many legs scurried out of our way as we walked along a dark hallway. There was a large room at the end of the hallway.
I would have been very happy to not go into it, but she was hurrying ahead. She made her way into the room, then came to a halt and gasped.
I walked up to her side and understood why.
The room was lit by a single candle in an ornate gold holder. Dark curtains hung over the windows, keeping the outside world away, and there were bones all over the floor.
I thought of the packages I had delivered and my theory that they had held raw meat.
It looked like I had been right and that this feast dripping with blood had been a regular delivery to the creature that lived here.
My companion took my arm and said, “Look.”
In an ante room, there was a coffin on a table. She walked over to it and looked at the lid. Then she turned round and her eyes were shining as she told me, “It’s got a note taped to it, saying it’s for collection. And there’s a delivery address as well.”
She clapped her hands together and added a delighted, “Amazing.”
I was still not happy about the whole business and said, “Ok, let’s get the coffin in the car then. The sooner we get it delivered the better.”
“After we look inside,” she said gleefully.
I remembered the disgusting guy at the depot’s rule about never looking inside a package, and said, “I really don’t think that’s a good idea.”
She wrinkled her nose up in the cutest way and replied, “Spoilsport.”
But she didn’t ask again, and together we carried the coffin out to the car. It just about fit onto the back seats and I was relieved when we drove away from the house. Being reduced to rubble was the best thing that could happen to the place, in my opinion.
The delivery address was in a part of the city that neither of us had ever heard of and I got completely lost.
Between the stress of that, and the strange package, and still trying to get up the nerve to ask for a date, my guts started to churn and I had to stop off at a diner so I could use their rest room.
I was the only person in the place apart from a tired looking waitress. Once I’d visited the rest room, I bought a couple of coffees to go, even though caffeine was the last thing I needed, then returned to the car.
It was empty.
The passenger door was open and one of the back seats. As I came closer, I saw that the lid of the coffin was open as well.
I started to feel sick with worry. Had curiosity got the better of my companion, and she had looked inside the coffin?
I peered into the coffin through the car window. There was nothing in there either.
I swore out loud and began to look around frantically – and it was then I saw the body lying on the ground.
It was near a dark corner of the diner. I hurried over.
It was the young woman. I knelt down and touched her face. Two trails of blood ran from cuts on her neck.
She had been so full of life, so beautiful. Now, she was dead.
I began to cry.
She must have disturbed the vampire in its coffin, and it had lashed out. Had fed on her and stolen her life.
As I knelt there weeping, I suddenly became aware of movement nearby.
I turned, thinking it might be the waitress, and saw the vampire crouching in the shadows.
Its hideous, bat-like head was tilted to one side and its tongue flickered out. Its mouth hung slightly open and I could see dark red stains on its monster’s teeth.
“You did this,” I said as anger flared inside me. “You!” I screamed.
It looked at me, and it smiled, and then wings unfurled from its back, and it sped into the sky and away.
I was nothing to it. And the young woman it had killed was growing cold on the ground next to me.
I picked her body up and carried it over to the car. My mind was racing and I’m not sure why, but I put her in the empty coffin as gently as I could then closed the lid, and the car door. I think I did not want anyone to see her like that.
I went to sit in the driver’s seat.
I felt utterly lost and alone and more scared than I had ever been in my life.
With dawn still hours away, I desperately tried to think what I should do next.
I was still trying to think, when I heard the back door click open. I span round. Shock sent cold waves through my body. The lid of the coffin was once more loose and it was empty.
And there was someone standing outside the car. Her long dark hair hung down her back almost to her waist.
Feeling as if I was in a dream, I climbed out of the car. She turned to me and smiled. Her lips were pale. Her fangs razor sharp.
“Help me,” she said in a quiet voice. “I am thirsty. I need to feed.”
Since that night, I have stayed with her. I watch over her coffin while she sleeps during the day. After dusk, I drive her to places where she can hunt for new victims to sate her bloodlust.
I will do this as long as she needs me. Because she is my dark mistress. My savage, beautiful creature of the night.

Algún lugar en donde hagan pizzas buernardas? Puntos extra si tienen delivery

I recently got my raise at work...it was less than half of what they originally quoted and I'm tired of living paycheck to paycheck trying to keep the roof over my family's heads. A couple family members are going to be gifting us a used car soon so I no longer have to ride my electric scooter to and from work. I want to put it to good use and start doing deliveries to supplement our income. I have experience doing pizza deliveries with Domino's, though that was years ago. I know that every delivery service has its certain perks and pitfalls. With that being said, I was wondering if anyone had any beginner advice for a potential new shopper.
Is Instacart worth it? Would you recommend signing up for a 2nd delivery service for when 1 is slow / showing no available deliveries? What are some things to be aware of (like possible scams)? And what are the busiest times / days (on average) to aim for?
Any and all advice would be greatly appreciated.

I have been a GM for an inner major city store residential/airbnb store a little over two years, been with the company for 4, transferring between each column of volume-base. I'm having an exceptionally hard time hiring, especially delivery experts. my last app for a DE was 6 months ago. my current DEs, they are heavenly and they are the most wonderful people, i've kept them for years but they're dropping like flies because they're burning out, can't make enough to maintain their cars or live, to keep up with the volume.
my area is gentrified, new pizza places are opening up left and right, and while my sales have gone down, i've lost good customers, while some other customers are getting more and more bitter because we're raising prices on the menu when we don't need to. Comparing these to menus of other pizza places, you can get better quality, better service for the same price or less.
cost of living has gone up dramatically, but my franchise has kept the same rate of pay across the board for these multiple stores in outer city areas where cost of living is lower. the stores that are located in these outer city/rural areas tend to be the best performing ones.
We start at 12/hr, but i cant seem to get anyone in the door when the fast food joints and retail stores next door are hiring $6+ more an hour. "employees get paid more at competing recruiters, so there's less hours to give. that's why we pay so low" So....we're just supposed to overwork the hell out of our current employees for less? the logic doesn't add up.
I have 4 delivery drivers for around $28k weekly, strongest is dinner and late night. my best employees are soloing every night because i refuse to let them work more than 5 days. they're exhausted.
they can keep doing Boost weeks, but when you're losing employees left and right and still pushing for this customer retention instead of focusing on what makes the company run in the first place, we are driving employees into the ground. more work/not enough pay/not worth it for either the employee or the company. Yet, we still push this obtuse idea.
Boost Week doesn't even retain customers anymore. customers see the ads, they order pizzas for the week, overload the already crumbling staff and never come back, because that's what we stand for as company now.
Pizza places are struggling so hard. I'm considering leaving because my heart hurts for my employees and i can't help but feel as if it's my fault for representing such an asinine mission statement for a Big corporation.
one thing i remember in my training is people work for good managers. but that's simply not true anymore. Good management only goes so far until you can't pay your bills. I love my job and i love working for my people but i cant keep doing this to them, and it's not going to get better. i've had discussions with many of my upper management but there doesn't seem to be a concern or even the slightest bit of support for any of my neighboring stores. my direct supervisor is aware of the situation but there's nothing he can do. I don't care where this gets me. I'm on probation in my company for repeated offenses speaking up about this. I understand that this isn't something that can resolve at my level. life is unfair but this is just cruel. A company that profits so much, bragging a "recession-proof" company, but yet we don't even pay our driving force that put us on the freaking map in the first place, a decent wage to pick up the slack. embarrassing is an understatement.

I got a job through a buddy years ago, small town so pizza delivery was a good 20’s something gig for a stoner. Went in the first day for a 2 hr training shift. I could of stuck out learning the convoluted cashiering app except the uniform shirts were 2 sizes too small and two employees too old.