When we talk, Dominique is sitting in the parking lot of the D.C. Costco, located just off New York Avenue NE near the border with Maryland. She’s been an Instacart shopper for nearly four years and, on this recent day, has been awaiting customer orders since 8:30 a.m., the time she usually arrives at the store.

But over the last seven hours, Dominque says she’s only received two orders—a significant drop from the six she’d normally receive by this point in the afternoon, as of a few weeks ago. That was before the coronavirus crisis overtook the D.C. area, leading local governments to issue restrictive stay-at-home directives and local residents to place more grocery orders online, with some people fearing contracting COVID-19 at brick-and-mortar stores.

“They’ve overloaded the system with new shoppers,” Dominique says of Instacart’s managers. She asked that her last name be withheld because she’s concerned about reprisal from the San Francisco-based company.

Among the various companies that are handling a big surge in grocery deliveries amid the pandemic, Instacart and Target-owned Shipt are two of the most prominent that rely on gig workers like Dominique. Recently, both have reported major growth in customer demand, which is putting stress on such workers to do their jobs while keeping safe—in some cases, without having been provided a complete array of personal protective equipment.

With its order volume up more than 500 percent nationally since 2019, Instacart announced last week it would hire more than 250,000 new shoppers, on top of the 300,000 new shoppers it brought on during the last month, as the pandemic worsened. In an email, Instacart told DCist it expects to hire about 36,000 new shoppers in D.C. alone.

Meanwhile, Shipt had added 80,000 shoppers to its operations as of mid-April and plans to add even more, according to a recent post on its website. A spokesperson for Shipt says it had “a record-breaking week for orders delivered last week” and will augment its 3,000 existing shoppers in D.C. with hundreds of new ones.

These workers, new and old, say they’re grappling with new challenges as the coronavirus pandemic sets in around the region.

“Before, it was fun. Now, it’s not.”

Dominique says the influx of new shoppers has driven down her earning potential significantly. In the past, she’d work six or seven hours a day and earn $150 to $200, but now, she’s lucky to make $100 a day.

She also says she’s become more frustrated with the job and Instacart lately, noting that although the company pledged to give its shoppers personal protective equipment, such as masks and gloves, to guard them against COVID-19, she still hasn’t received hers after requesting it two weeks ago. (Instacart says it’s “shipped tens of thousands of items [of equipment] over the last few weeks and [is] moving quickly to get them in the hands of Instacart shoppers.”)

Based on pictures she’s seen online, Dominique isn’t impressed by it anyway. “The mask that they’re giving out [looks] flimsy,” she says, adding that she procured her own mask and hand sanitizer. Earlier this month, D.C. Mayor Muriel Bowser required grocery stores to post signage mandating that masks be worn inside.

Her own equipment hasn’t protected Dominique from another risk of working as a gig shopper: tip baiting, or when a customer offers a large tip as part of their order, and then pulls it after the order arrives. She says it’s happened to her once so far and has heard of it happening to other gig shoppers too. Coupled with the health risks she faces from the coronavirus, Dominique is considering quitting Instacart.

“Before it was fun,” she says. “Now, it’s not.”

She’s not alone in her frustration. Workers for Instacart, Target, Amazon, and Walmart are reportedly planning a May 1 walk-out over economic and safety inequities laid bare by the pandemic, The Intercept reported Tuesday.

Many of Dominique’s experiences aren’t unique in the world of professional grocery shopping, particularly amid the coronavirus crisis. Still, there’s a wide range in how much money people make by working for these services, not only because of people’s individual work schedules but also the companies’ pay algorithms.

Instacart’s pay algorithm, for example, has shifted over time and is a closely guarded company secret. The shoppers I spoke to say customer tips make up a hefty portion of their pay compared with their base wages, which are paid out by the company.

According to Instacart, full-service shopper earnings can vary, but there’s no limit to what shoppers can earn. The company also says there’s an “upfront earnings structure that allows shoppers to see the payment offered before accepting [and] shoppers earn a minimum payment of $7 to $10 per full-service [order].”

“In the wake of COVID-19, shoppers are earning 60 percent more” from every order, including “higher payments from Instacart and nearly double the tips from customers,” a spokesperson for the company says in an email.

“I had a guy call me a ‘rock star’ the other day.”

Tom Holland is another gig delivery worker in D.C., who’s worked for both Instacart and Shipt for months. While on his way to a Harris Teeter store in Alexandria, Virginia, Holland says he initially turned to grocery shopping as a way to earn income after being diagnosed with cancer a few years back. He used to own a juice and natural foods cafe in the District for two decades.

Now, Holland says, his father has cancer and is “in his last days,” so the flexibility of the job allows Holland to take care of him. He adds that Shipt is generally kind to its contractors, pointing out that the company sent him a condolence letter and an extra $100 “for groceries to help my family” after learning of his father’s health.

But because of the coronavirus, Holland faces some of the same stresses as Dominique. “There’s been a flood of new shoppers, and it’s not been good overall, [even though] I know they had to do what they had to do,” he says of the drastic hiring increase in gig shoppers.

While Holland is earning about 25 percent more amid the outbreak than before, he says it’s primarily because of higher tips as well as his experience in completing large orders more quickly than many new shoppers do. “I’ve done 1,700 [total] shops,” he says. “I had a guy call me a ‘rock star’ the other day.”

In terms of personal protective equipment, Holland says Shipt mailed him a box that included hand sanitizer and gloves, but no mask, so he bought his own masks instead. He says he feels relatively safe while working, though other people’s behavior makes him concerned.

“I pay attention and [am] detail-orientated … but I’d say 25 percent of people [at stores] are not doing social distancing or wearing masks,” Holland estimates. “It’s frustrating.” Shipt confirms that it sent some shoppers “individual safety kits,” including gloves and hand sanitizer, and adds that its shoppers can also pick up masks and more gloves from local Target stores.

“I have nothing else to do.”

Jerome Jeffries is a new Instacart worker as of April 1. As we speak, he’s preparing to fulfill an order at the Giant store in Cathedral Heights. A friend recommended the gig when Jeffries’ previous job as a bartender at American Ice Company, a bar near U Street NW, was effectively quashed by D.C.’s shutdown order in March.

He says the process of becoming an on-demand shopper was extremely easy. “They are not checking anything,” says Jeffries. “I looked at some other gigs and they at least want some proof of insurance or a background check. These guys, you just give them your name and you are good to go.”

Instacart disputes Jeffries’ characterization, saying “all prospective shoppers must agree [to] and complete a thorough background check before they are allowed on the platform.” Per the company, the background check covers criminal records, the national sex-offender registry, and motor-vehicle checks. “No shoppers are given access to our platform until they are cleared through the background check,” states an Instacart spokesperson.

Jeffries says he’s currently working 12 hour days, seven days a week because “I have nothing else to do.” He says he’s making about $3,000 a week—half from Instacart and half from customer tips.

Still, the company’s lack of transparency around its pay algorithm doesn’t completely sit well with him. “You’re considered an independent contractor and … you don’t know what your contract is,” explains Jeffries. “There’s no leverage to negotiate at all.” He says he’s going to keep working for Instacart during the pandemic since the money is good and he’s still healthy.

“My family is pissed at me for doing this.”

Sharon Hunt had just finished checking out an order at the Wegmans in Largo, Md., and was on her way to drop it off in D.C. when we spoke. She’s been shopping for Instacart on a part-time basis for two years, working full-time in the medical field.

Hunt says she’s making more money through deliveries than before the pandemic, but it’s coming at a cost with her loved ones. “My family is pissed at me for doing this,” says Hunt, a single mother. Since it’s a part-time job for her, she says her relatives wish she’d temporarily suspend making grocery deliveries because of the broader health risks from COVID-19. But in light of the new earning potential, Hunt is reluctant to stop.

“Every day, you hear something different on the news,” she notes. “They talk about another peak. There might come a day where they close everything. Then what? Bills still need to be paid.”

But Hunt is taking precautions to mitigate the danger. Each day after shopping, she says she immediately takes off her clothes, throws them in the hamper, and takes a shower. “I’m going into grocery stores and coming into contact with lots of people,” says Hunt. “I don’t know what’s on me.”