Despite Pitfalls of Asphalt Jungle, Couriers Manage to Deliver : City Smart / How to thrive in the urban environment of Southern California

Amid the roar of the downtown rush hour, a bus’s horn blares at John Harrelson as he swerves his bike across its path toward the courthouse steps.

Safely on the sidewalk, Harrelson shakes a finger at the driver as he charges into the building to deliver a stack of court documents before the business day ends. “What? Am I invisible?” he shouts.

“Nobody respects us messengers downtown,” said the 25-year-old Harrelson.

In the mad rush to meet deadlines imposed by their companies’ law firm clients, Harrelson and about 150 other bicycle couriers race through the hilly streets every day delivering legal paperwork to courthouse clerks and corporate executives.

The urgency of their job calls for them to cut corners--on the streets and in office corridors.

Harrelson, considered one of the best at this game, is nicknamed “Psycho” by other couriers because of his ability to alternately smile or snarl whenever dealing with government clerks, receptionists, security guards and bus drivers.

“This is a cutthroat industry,” he said of the growing number of Los Angeles courier services vying to handle courthouse logistics for the more than 7,500 law firms in the county.

“One [screw-up] and your company could lose a client for good and then it’s you who’s [wiped] out,” said the eight-year veteran. “A lot of firms give you a case to file 15 minutes before the courthouse closes and they don’t want to hear that you couldn’t get inside in time.”

One recent morning, Harrelson demonstrated his tricks of the trade.

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Lowering the volume on a two-way radio he uses to keep in contact with his boss, he greets a clerk handling case files.

“It’s me again,” he says, while searching for paperwork he requested.

“Aw! This [slip] says my file won’t be available until tomorrow,” Harrelson says in a mixture of anger and despair. “You knew I wanted that yesterday. What are you doing to me?”

The clerk glances back indifferently from a copy machine and says: “That came in yesterday. It takes 24 hours to get them filed. Sorry.”

Stroking his goatee, Harrelson responds: “OK. How can we avoid this problem next time Raul? Raul . . . Does that mean ‘Ralph’ or ‘Paul?’ ”

“It means Raul,” the clerks says. “Hold on. I’ll go to the back and look for your file.”

Moments later, the file is retrieved. “If you stay in their face long enough,” Harrelson says later, “they eventually break down and do anything to help you out.”

Bobby Arceo, who has been delivering court documents for 10 years, agrees that that is one of the many successful tactics couriers use.

“I’ve literally been on my knees at 10 [minutes] after 5 begging to get a department manager to reopen his office so I could get a file some lawyer needed,” the 25-year-old Arceo said.

“But we also take clerks out to lunch or buy receptionist flowers if they go out of their way for us,” Arceo said. “Some guys find romance that way.”

But Reuben Reynoso, 24, says couriers often find their extra efforts unappreciated.

Prejudiced because of bicycle shorts, long hair or tattoos worn by some, lawyers tend to regard all couriers with disdain, Reynoso said. “They think we’re all a bunch of dolts,” said Reynoso, who repeatedly emphasizes that he is a college student.

“They make us ride the freight elevator when we enter their office and are condescending when we show up for the simplest job.”

Arceo agrees. “Some receptionists look down on us,” he says, laughing. Meanwhile, he adds, full-time couriers probably make more money than they do--$15 an hour in some cases.

“You gotta be a chameleon,” Harrelson says.

The key, he said, is to adapt--even to accidents.

In his third year as a courier, Reynoso underwent orthoscopic knee surgery after an accident with a car he claims ran a red light. “The first thing my boss asked me was, ‘Did you deliver the package?’ ”

Now he is one of the “in-house” couriers stationed inside all court buildings downtown.

Larger courier services use them in tandem with their cyclists to speed up deliveries

Though in-house, Reynoso speaks gloriously of his days on a bike.

“There’s no greater feeling then shooting down Grand Avenue on a rainy day trying to make a 4 p.m. deadline,” he said.

“Anyone who hasn’t kissed the asphalt isn’t a real courier.”