You’ve probably seen two UPS trucks parked like this. Here’s what’s actually going on.

Peak holiday season has officially begun! And with the surge in online shopping there are even more delivery vehicles out on the roads than ever.

You might soon spot something unexpected in a parking lot or on a side street near you: two trucks pulled close together, drivers transferring packages between them. (If they’re parked tail-to-tail, that’s probably what’s happening, even if you can’t see it.)

This exchange is as ritualized as anything you’d see between members of the same species in a nature documentary. You catch a rare glimpse of the interaction between delivery drivers in the wild – specifically UPS drivers like me.

There are plenty of reasons for these transfers. Trucks break down; drivers get sick or hurt; a family emergency comes up. Seasonal drivers quit mid-shift. Some full-timers risk running out of legal driving hours. And during Peak there are more drivers than assigned routes, so the ‘extras’ need work to fill their ‘guaranteed-eight‘ hours.

But the two main reasons one UPS driver ‘takes stops off’ another are simple: no two routes are alike, and no two drivers are alike. Some routes just take longer than others, and every driver works at their own pace.

As I’ve said before, the goal is to work just fast enough so as not to need help, but not so fast that you’re sent out to help others. Being too quick or too slow on route can make you the subject of coworker complaints. Either way, drivers helping each other is a regular part of the job.

No matter the reason, this interaction ritual is usually initiated by a manager in the office who’s monitoring everyone’s progress electronically. They’ll either request or instruct one driver to contact another with an offer of help.

As a UPS driver I can decline such a request without consequence, but my ignoring a direct instruction could result in discipline for insubordination.

If I agree to a request to help, I’ll usually text the other driver something like, ‘Hey, how’s it going? Got any stops you don’t want?’ If I’m being instructed: ‘Hey, so they want me to come take some stops off you. How does that sound?’

In both cases the subtext is the same: ‘I’m just reaching out. I know you’re perfectly capable of doing all your work, and you’re completely entitled your full assignment, but if you’re looking for relief I’m here for you.’ The other driver is free to decline, unless management has instructed them not to.

Sometimes they decline by disregarding my text. If I don’t get a reply within ten minutes, I follow up with a call. If I still can’t reach them I notify the office, which either coordinates a meet point or sends me elsewhere.

Usually, though, I hear back quickly. A simple, ‘I’m good, thanks,’ means they don’t want the help or don’t think an exchange is worth the time. By contrast, ‘Are you looking for more work?’ means they’re open to giving stops but want to make clear just who’s helping whom.

Both parties defer to the other about whether the exchange should happen at all. That mutual deference preserves a key element of job satisfaction: autonomy. One of the perks of this job is the sense of freedom and independence you get while out on route.

Once both drivers have opted in, we coordinate logistics. The helpee chooses a meet point and the helper provides an ETA. Beyond that, the helpee sets the tone – strictly business or a quick social visit. In this dance, the helpee leads and the helper follows.

The helper usually arrives first; it’s bad form to keep a helpee waiting since they’re interrupting their workflow to meet. The helpee then asks how many stops the helper wants or is being instructed to take, sometimes offering to show the list of remaining addresses. Helpers might offer preferences or shrug and say they’re flexible.

Bid drivers know their own routes well enough to pre-select easy stops – or even pre-stage packages if they’re already at the meet point. Cover drivers less familiar with their remaining work may simply suggest one or more entire cargo shelves’ worth of packages.

Crucially, a helpee should offer only their ‘easiest’ stops. They shouldn’t unload complicated businesses, dense apartments, or heavy ‘irregular’ packages unless the helper explicitly volunteers – and even then the helpee protests just enough to confirm that it’s truly voluntary.

After agreeing on a number and identifying the stops, the helpee transfers the packages. The helper scans them in and reads back the count. The helpee then asks for confirmation that the number is acceptable, and the verbal assent seals the exchange.

This ritual exists because the roles can reverse at any time. I might be the helper today and the helpee tomorrow. Sooner or later – probably sooner – the tables will eventually turn. So everyone has an interest in things going as well and smoothly as possible.

Still, it’s a delicate balance. The helper must take enough stops to offset the helpee’s lost time – too few makes the exchange pointless. But the helpee shouldn’t unload more than half their remaining work unless there’s a special circumstance. The sweet spot is somewhere between one-fifth and one-third of the helpee’s remaining workload.

These exchanges may look mundane from the outside, but they’re the glue that holds Peak together. Every shared stop, every quick check-in, every in-person meetup keeps the whole operation moving. It’s cooperation in its simplest form – and a hidden part of the job that makes the hardest weeks of the year just a little more human.