Mary Mba (Ph.D)
When I moved to this town less than a year ago, everything felt unfamiliar. I didn’t know the people, the neighborhoods, or even where to find a decent plate of food. The quiet ache of starting over can be louder than we admit—especially when you’re used to being rooted. But surprisingly, it wasn’t a map, a meetup group, or an app for making friends that helped me find my place—it was DoorDash.
From Side Hustle to Street-Level Discovery
At first, I signed up to kill the boredom, use my after work hours more meaningfully, and make new connections. What I didn’t expect was how much this gig would help me learn the fabric of my new surroundings. From Worcester to Shrewsbury, Millbury to Marlboro, Paxton to Spencer. I’ve dashed through side streets, shopping plazas, residential nooks, and winding back roads in Holden, Auburn, Rutland, and Leicester—places I wouldn’t even have thought of going to.
Each delivery became a micro-tour, a lesson in local life. GPS didn’t just direct me to houses and storefronts—it led me through a living map. And slowly, the dots started connecting.
The Flavor of Place
Before DoorDash, I didn’t know where to get a good poke bowl or who made the crispiest wings. Now I’ve picked up from places like:
- Island Fin Poke Company
- Charleys Cheesesteaks and Wings
- Papa Gino’s & D’Angelo
- Wings Over Worcester
- Cali-Burrito
- Red Crab Juicy Seafood
- Fantastics Pizza and Cafe
- …plus the everyday stops like Chick-fil-A, Burger King, Dippin Donuts, and 7-Eleven
Each bag I carry holds more than food. It holds a glimpse into a small business’s rhythm, a family’s dinner table, a worker’s break room. I walk into kitchens I never knew existed and leave with stories—sometimes in the form of scent, sometimes in the form of laughter.
Faces Behind the Doors
This job has brought me face to face with more of humanity than I expected. Nurses at the end of long shifts. Students up too late. Parents balancing babies on hips. Elders who bless me with slow smiles and knowing eyes. Strangers with tired faces. Strangers with joy.
Even in the briefest handoffs, there’s something personal. Something real. However, some just want their food “dropped at the door”, which is also fine.
Mishaps, Mystery, and Mindful Motion
Not everything has gone perfectly. I’ve almost delivered to the wrong house more times than I’d like to admit. GPS reroutes can be bold liars. And I once saw a full toilet seat sitting on someone’s porch like it was patio furniture—no questions asked. I have even run into some not so friendly dogs and wondered if I could being my own dog along for moments like that so other dogs know I am also a dog-person.
I’ve forgotten to check delivery notes, missed sauce requests, and gotten stuck behind trains, school buses, or tractors. But even in those imperfect moments, I’ve stayed in motion—and learned to laugh.
Not Just Earning—Belonging
I don’t dash because I have to. I dash because it grounds me. It gets me out of the house, away from endless scrolling, and into spaces I wouldn’t normally visit. I also walk a lot during dashing- especially when I have to deliver at shopping malls or have to park a distance away from my pickup and delivery addresses. Parking can be a menace! For someone still learning a new city, DoorDashing has become a tool of connection—subtle, practical, human.
It’s helping me feel more rooted, more curious, and more open.
Each delivery is more than a transaction. It’s an interaction. A chance to be part of someone’s day—and let this city become part of mine.
And perhaps that’s what I needed all along. Not just a way to connect.
But a reason to keep moving.
A reason to belong.