
The rider and the shelf
Two things on a delivery platform are genuinely worth money, and it is worth being straight about which. One is the rider — somebody on a moped at half past nine on a Friday, dispatched by software you do not have to run. The other is the shelf: being one of fifty kitchens a hungry person scrolls past.
Clay gives you neither. There are no riders here and no marketplace, and nobody who has never heard of you will find you inside it. What it takes back is the order that was never in question — the regular who knows your name, the office that orders every Thursday, the collection order somebody would rather ring in.



