I didn’t get to go to much school when I was a kid. Instead I graduated from the school of life. Experience was the name of the game down in Strawberry Mansion – at least that’s what my dad taught me.
In order to escape the game, I needed to be creative and start my own business. I began to look for gaps in the lives of white people that I knew I could fill.
One of the main areas of need I saw was the need for a runner – someone who would go between the white suburbs and my hood in order to get the goods that the white person wanted.
I knew that this would imply that I wanted to be a drug mule, but that was not the case. I wanted to do things the legitimate way.
I knew that the white people absolutely loved the cooking that us black folks did. After all, our restaurants were amazing.
I made flyers and posted them all around white neighborhoods with my phone number. I told people to call me if they wanted black people food delivered to their homes. I primarily focused on rich white people neighborhoods, since they were the most likely to want to use this service.
My fee structure was simple – 50% of whatever their food cost; with a minimum of $3.