China’s skyscrapers spark a brand-new job: Meet the unsung heroes braving endless elevator waits for your food

When Megastructures Meet Mundane Headaches

China truly leads the world in megastructures—some record-breaking, some more curious, like possessing the tallest abandoned skyscraper on the planet. Yet, for all their soaring ambition, nobody seemed to anticipate the small, daily headaches these concrete and steel giants would unleash. In some towers, getting in the elevator has turned into a real-life puzzle worthy of a brain teaser app. The issue? At rush hour, elevator waits can stretch up to thirty minutes—a nightmare for delivery drivers, who see their profitability melt away with every lost minute.

The Rise of the Delivery-Delivery Person

So, how do you fix a problem like elevators jammed solid with humanity? Simple: you invent a new job, the « delivery person for delivery people ». Usually, these are teenagers or retirees offering their services as urban mountain climbers. The idea is straightforward: pick up meals at the building entrance and— for a small fee— haul them up to the customer. Yes, you read that right. It’s as if DoorDash hired Uber Eats just to handle the elevator.

Take Li Linxing as the perfect example. At sixteen, Li spends his days outside SEG Plaza—a 70-story high-rise and a monument to economic openness—and earns about ¥100 each day (roughly $14). For about €0.28 (just under 30 cents) per order, Li skillfully jostles through crowds of fellow freelancers, kills time in elevator queues, and paces endless corridors to deliver food. It’s neither a stable nor a lucrative job, but for Shenzhen’s most precarious residents, it’s a way to scrape together money fast. That daily ¥100 is enough to attract students on break or seniors working to make ends meet.

How It All Works, and the Building’s Own Micro-Economy

Here’s a peek at the system in action:

• The main food courier arrives by scooter, hands over the food, scans a QR code to log the drop-off, and zips away to their next stop.
• The ‘substitute’ courier—our friendly neighborhood elevator warrior—tackles the slow, frustrating final trek to the customer’s door.

Some, like Shao Ziyou, have turned this side job into a business. He got started as the very first to camp outside SEG Plaza and now runs a small crew of assistants, taking a cut of each delivery. On particularly busy days, he can coordinate 600–700 orders!

Competition, Conflicts, and Murky Working Conditions

As this unusual new breed of couriers mushrooms, so have rivalry and drama. Making a mistake can be costly: platforms penalize the main food couriers for any delay, who then pass the pressure onto their assistants. According to the New York Times, street arguments over mixed-up addresses have become an almost daily spectacle—although most get sorted out in the end. Meanwhile, competition is fierce. Some building couriers even slash their rates to the bone to snag more business.

But let’s address the (uninsured) elephant in the room: it’s all completely informal work. None of these couriers have contracts, insurance, or social protections. This tolerated but legally murky activity has even drawn in kids—sometimes as young as elementary school—enticed by viral videos on social media. The controversy reached such a pitch that local authorities finally stepped in! Now, only those aged 16 and above (like Li) are allowed to continue, though the job remains just as unstable and low-paid as before.

Life at SEG Plaza: The Soul of Shenzhen’s « Gig Economy in a Gig Economy »

What’s happening beneath the towering SEG Plaza sums up Shenzhen’s dynamic character. This « gig economy inside the gig economy » is typical of today’s booming megacities—millions trying to survive, hustling as best they can, one food delivery (or elevator wait) at a time.