Before Trucka had a name, a website, or a single driver, we made two decisions and agreed they were permanent:

  1. Customers see the full price before they book.
  2. Drivers see their exact payout before they accept.

Everything else about this company is negotiable. Those two aren’t. This post is the reasoning, written down in public so we can be held to it.

The problem with hidden numbers

The gig economy has a bad habit: nobody sees their number until it’s too late to matter. Customers get quotes assembled from fees they can’t parse, or worse, a meter that starts running before anyone knows what the job will cost. Drivers take a job, do the work, and find out what it actually paid when the deposit lands. Then they screenshot payouts on forums and compare notes, like detectives working their own paycheck.

Nobody involved can make a clean decision about their own transaction. We think that’s the original sin of the category, and it’s fixable with a decision, not a technology.

Why drivers see the payout first

The driver brings the truck. Sit with that for a second. In this business, the expensive asset, the insurance, the fuel, the maintenance, and the skill all arrive in the same person. A driver with a paid-off pickup is not “labor.” They’re a one-truck logistics company, and a business owner deserves to know what a job pays before agreeing to do it.

So on Trucka, every job card shows the exact dollar payout before the driver says yes. Not an estimate, not a range that resolves later, not a number that shrinks between accepting and getting paid. The figure on the card is the figure that hits their account. Tips are on top and go entirely to the driver.

And there’s cold self-interest here too, so let’s not pretend it’s charity. Skilled drivers have options. The one who shows up with straps and blankets, texts you when they’re ten minutes out, and walks your dresser down three flights without a scuff? That person does math before taking a job. Platforms that make drivers guess keep whoever can’t leave. We want the ones who choose each job on purpose, every Saturday, because the number worked. Your couch gets carried by whoever the economics attracted. We’re building economics that attract the good ones.

Why the price comes first

The other decision: you see one flat number before you commit. A base fee for the truck size, plus distance. We text it, you say yes or no, and no means no charge.

No hourly meter, because a meter puts you and the driver on opposite teams. When billing runs by the hour, every stuck stairwell is revenue and nobody’s incentives point at “finish well, finish fast.” A flat price puts everyone on the same side: get it done right, get it done once.

No surge, because your couch isn’t more valuable on a Saturday. Demand pricing might be great spreadsheet engineering, but it teaches customers that the platform will charge whatever it can get away with at your weakest moment. We’d rather have boring prices and your trust.

No fees bolted on at the end, because a quote that grows after you accept it isn’t a quote. It’s bait.

Most jobs run $60 to $150. Not because we promise that range, but because that’s honestly where hauling a couch or a Marketplace find across town lands. If your job prices out and the number doesn’t work for you, say no thanks. We mean it. A marketplace where people can walk away from a bad price is the only kind that stays honest. The mechanics are all on the how it works page.

What we’re not promising

Here’s the part a startup blog usually skips.

We’re new. As of this writing we operate in three cities: New York, Washington DC, and San Francisco. We have no decade of history, no mountain of reviews, and competitors like Lugg, Dolly, and GoShare have been doing this well since the mid-2010s in a lot more places. If you’re outside our cities, use them. If you’re inside, compare us, because comparison shopping keeps us sharp.

We will make mistakes. A driver will be late someday. Something will get scratched, and we’ll have to make it right, and how we handle that will matter more than this essay. Fine. Every company that hauls physical objects through physical cities eats those days.

What we’re promising is narrower and harder: nobody finds out their number after the fact. You see the price before you book. The driver sees the payout before they accept. If either of those ever changes, it’ll be announced in plain language on this blog, not slipped into a terms update. Writing it here is the point. Now it’s a promise with witnesses.

The bet

Our bet is that transparency is a strategy, not a slogan. That drivers who know exactly what a job pays before they take it show up better, that customers who see the price first come back, and that a marketplace where nobody gets surprised beats one where everybody does.

If we’re right, we get to expand past three cities. If we’re wrong, at least we were wrong in public.

Got a truck? The application takes two minutes. Got a couch? Get your price and check our math.