Friday, July 24, 2015

First Appearances


 People often ask me what it is like driving for Uber. Here is what happened on a recent night:

7:31pm Welcome to San Francisco!
Google Executive. Yes, San Francisco has tech execs walking around everywhere. This one was glued to her iPhone and could barely carry on a conversation. I never know when to be talkative and when to shut up when the client has their phone out.

8:07pm
Mother and Daughter tourists. Pick-up was an apartment complex on Nob Hill (in other words, they were using AirBnB). “Would you tell us about the neighborhoods as we pass through them?” The mother is thrilled, daughter (16yrs old) is mortified.  I point out City Hall, War Memorial Opera house, the original gay neighborhood, Uber headquarters... Mother loves it all, but daughter is comatose until a mention of Uber headquarters. What is it about Millennials and technology?

8:36pm
A Contradiction. She got in the car at the corner of Market and Castro (gay ground zero), looking very butch but had a husband. Her expensive clothes, iPhone 6, and poor social skills pointed toward coder but she was an oncology nurse. She had lived in S.F. for 8 years but had absolutely no idea how to get around the city. In her defense, she was living in the newest housing in a 239 year old city – down the street from Pac Bell Park (I mean AT&T Park) at 4th and King.

8:59pm
The Pixie. Pick-up location was an abandoned pier. As I drive up her fashionably torn t-shirt is blowing in the breeze over spandex shorts. Rail thin. She stands on tip-toes, extending her body as high as it will go to kiss her hulking boyfriend who has to bend almost in half to reach her. As I drive up, she hops in. Her voice is the highest I’ve ever heard outside of a cartoon. Glued to her iPhone we don’t talk for the entire ride. I drop her off in one of the toughest neighborhoods in the city.

9:15pm
Uber pool. When a rider is open to allowing an Uber driver to pick up another rider they use what is known as "Uber Pool." I start the conversation, “Ending your night or just getting started?” The rider chuckles and says, “Getting started.” He is glued to the screen. Another rider calls for a pick-up and as I turn to get them, they cancel. This puts us on a course in the wrong direction. Another rider calls for a pick-up. This time the destination is WAY off the original course. My original rider notices and is not happy. His mood changes when we get the second  passenger, a very attractive young woman. Turns out he is a tech recruiter and she is recruitable. Love connection? Nope, he is gay and she is young. This is business as usual in San Francisco.

9:41pm
Conversation Minimalist. Single guy glued to an iPhone.

9:46pm
iPhone Couple - both glued to their glowing devices. They must be married. Turns out they put down the phones and became the funniest people of the night. There is no way to do justice to the comedy routine that transpired during that ride. Suffice it to say, I’ll never again look at Boy Scouts the same.

10:15pm
More iPhone. When the glow of a phone up-lights a person's face it rarely helps the face's appearance.

10:32pm
The Last Rider of the Night. The blue dot on the Uber app shows me where to pick up my last rider. App says to pick up “Kate” at pier 35 at the foot of the pier. I’ll need to drive on the sidewalk to get to her. When arrive a security guard is standing between me and the place where “Kate” should be. He is the friendliest security guard in S.F. informing me there is nobody looking for a ride and that I have to move my car. I drive on to the tourist trap Pier 39, 50 feet away. I sit and wait, looking at the Uber app. A few minutes go by and I notice that the blue dot has moved to the end of Pier 35. My mind is fishing for an explanation for why someone would be at the end of a pier. I somehow make a connection to Kathryn Steinle. Could someone be playing a joke on me? Is this rider “Kate” a ghost? A knocking sound brings me back to reality and I see Kate standing there with her boyfriend trying to get in the car. Turns out my ghost rider is actually one half of a beautiful couple that looks like they just walked out of the pages of US Weekly.

If nothing else, this evening has reminded me never to judge a book by its cover.

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