By Carol Rosenberg

Miami Herald, November 29, 1996
 

FROM MIAMI TO D.C.: Danielle Roshinski's job as a bicycle messengerlets her work or take a day off when she wants.

In black spandex with a blond buzz cut, Danielle Roshinski works thecorridors of white-collar Washington like the consummate insider.

She knows her way around Congress and how to get a message to the WhiteHouse. She has handled documents of state and hefty legal tomes. She hasseen the inside of some of the city's most exclusive embassies.

``There's not a thing that goes on this city that I don't get to see,''boasted the 1977 graduate of Dade's Carol City High School.

Roshinski is neither lobbyist nor legislative aide. No computer analystor curmudgeon correspondent could get away with that outfit.

The 36-year-old Miami native is a bicycle messenger, one of hundredsof couriers who crisscross the nation's capital each day fueling a bureaucracythat, even in this era of fax and Internet, prides itself on paper, paperand more paper.

Need to get a document stamped with an official government seal? Summona bike messenger. Want to submit a blueprint to the Library of Congresswithout diving into the gridlock that can bring the city to a standstill,especially when heads of state are visiting? Send a bike messenger.

``I've done contracts, movie scripts, all kinds of stuff up to the Libraryof Congress. I've done bowling trophies, birthday cakes, presents, flowerson Valentine's Day and bottles of wine. I try to be careful. I didn't evenmash the cake,'' Roshinski said.

For her job, she owns six different bicycles, heavy-tired mountain bikesfor the slush and snow of winter, lighter racing-style models to speedher through the sticky summer.

Roshinski, an irreverent wisecracker, found her career after a stintin the Navy as a parachute rigger and more traditional office-bound work.She came north to train horses on a polo-pony ranch, only to find thatthe job had disappeared.

``In this town, if you're not a lawyer or a quisling of some sort, you'reout of luck,'' she said matter-of-factly. ``But I had a bike.''

Like many messengers, she was drawn to the work because of its independence.No time clocks, no desks. Couriers get paid by the job, linked to a firmthrough pager and walkie-talkie with which she splits a typical $10 feefor a round-trip downtown run.

She considers it good work. In an average 40-hour week, she says, shecan pull down $500. And that's when she's not really hustling.

It's not without risk.

Anyone who has spent time in D.C. traffic has seen the daredevil actsin which couriers often engage -- whizzing between lanes of cars, skiddingaround potholes, dodging taxis and Secret Service-guarded motorcades todeliver a document on time.

She has crashed three times -- once when she broadsided a Cadillac andanother when she was rammed from behind and landed in a neck brace. Onceshe had to swerve out of the way of Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas,whom she recognized by his black Corvette.

But, Roshinski says, it affords a bird's-eye view of the bureaucracyand affairs of state that few in this city get to see -- and the freedomto neither punch a clock nor work 9 to 5 because of its freelance nature.

``If I want to go home for Christmas, I go home. If I want to go tothe ball game, I take the day off and go to the ball game,'' she said simply.

Other advantages?

Big people, events

``I saw the Olympic torch. I shook hands with Reagan and Gorbachev,''the latter during the 1980s when the man who dismantled the Soviet Uniongot out of his car ``and was glad-handing.''

One of the biggest hassles of the job, Roshinski says, is security inthis city ever vigilant for car bombs and assassination attempts. No onedelivers to the White House directly, instead dropping packages and lettersat a security window of the New Executive Office building a block away.

``That's kind of a painless activity,'' she said, comparing it to buildingspatrolled by private security guards. ``They slow you down. Give a guya uniform and a walkie-talkie, and he thinks he's Dick Tracy.''

Some would suggest that in this age of the information superhighway,her two-wheeled work is doomed to obsolescence. But Roshinski disagrees.

She carts around original blueprints in huge tubes too long for anyfax machine and ferries books between legal firms that share law libraries.Then there's other ``stuff that needs signatures and filings in the court.''

So much so that she can't imagine the capital without couriers.

``Nothing would get done,'' she said simply. ``Who would do those superfluousthings those fancy lawyers can't do? Who would pay their parking tickets?Who would pick up their ties?''