Laid-off bicyclist turns COVID-19 anger into business — yelling messages to people stuck at home
Matthew Fleming felt like yelling — loudly.
The former sous chef at Tacoma’s Hotel Murano, Fleming had gone from gainfully employed at a job he loved to out of work, almost overnight.
Amid the coronavirus outbreak and the economic disruption it has caused — which seems to intensify daily — Fleming also knew he wasn’t alone.
The pure scope of the crisis was overwhelming, and, with confirmed cases and COVID-19 related deaths mounting, Fleming said he reached his mental breaking point about a week ago.
“I was so angry over the situation and … over why I was losing my job. It wasn’t my fault, it wasn’t the company’s fault,” Fleming said of standing by and watching a pandemic upend his career and his livelihood.
“I wanted to scream.”
It’s a sentiment shared by many over the last month, to be certain. But Fleming has followed through where others have likely stopped at dropping expletives and punching pillows — finding a way to turn his frustration into something constructive, even comforting.
An avid bicyclist — and apparently a bit of a closet entrepreneur — Fleming wondered if people might be willing to pay him to ride around Tacoma and shout things at friends and loved ones.
During a time when nearly everyone is stuck inside — bored and isolated from many of the people they care about — Fleming thought there just might be a market for a guy with a bike willing to deliver messages, albeit from a safe distance.
He was right.
After creating an account on Venmo and Instagram — the appropriately named @tacoma_shout_outs — the plan “just kind of exploded,” Fleming said.
On Monday, Fleming spent roughly five hours delivering 17 different messages across the city, adding that he hasn’t taken a day off for more than a week.
Fleming’s price probably helps. He charges a dollar, though often people pay a little extra, he said.
Mostly, it’s been about staying active and giving people a way to feel connected.
Fleming’s inspiration came from a place of anger, but it quickly evolved into something more productive, he said.
“This is to spread positivity, and this is to help connect people in a way that’s not a screen. There’s a lot of virtual connectivity, but people are really yearning for that face-to-face connection,” Fleming said.
“If you can kind of bring people together in a creative way, people really miss that,” he added. “Humans are social creatures, and I think we all really miss each other.”
So what kind of messages does Fleming deliver, and how are people choosing to express their genuine longing for contact during a pandemic?
The missives vary, Fleming said. He does have rules: No racism, no threats and no hate speech.
Many of the messages appear to be “weird inside jokes between friends,” Fleming said, but he’s also delivered birthday wishes, plenty of “I miss you” sentiments and even a few “raunchy” ones.
The reaction is always priceless, Fleming told The News Tribune.
“People are so happy. I can see their smiles from the middle of the street,” Fleming said. “They love it … especially when it’s a really personal message from one of their friends.”
Though Fleming isn’t completely surprised the plan is working, he was taken aback by how quickly it took off, he told The News Tribune.
In fact, it’s been such a hit that Finley recently decided to donate his proceeds to Second Cycle on Hilltop.
Work — and the career that’s currently on hold — brought him to Tacoma, and he’s learned the ways of this city largely on two wheels. Fleming said he sees the good Second Cycle does here — providing free and low-cost access to bicycles — and knows the nonprofit could use the money more than he can.
“Second Cycle helps more people throughout the year than I do. I have resources behind me, and I also have a savings account — whereas places like Second Cycle don’t. I think they can do a lot more good in the long run than I can, and if I can help them weather the storm for a second, then I think that’s important,” Fleming said.
“Businesses like Second Cycle kind of make Tacoma what it is, and I think we need to keep them.”
Asked how long he’ll keep it up, Fleming was resolute.
“Until I can’t pedal anymore,” he told The News Tribune, adding that he’d like to see the idea picked up by others and spread to places across the country.
Fleming is giving himself a break this week, however. He’s overdue.
“I’m taking Wednesday off, because my legs kind of hurt,” he said.
“I also think I’m starting to tear some vocal chords.”
