Saturday, August 23, 2014

Rideshare Chump

I’m idling in the bike lane on Valencia with my hazards flashing. For the past five minutes, I’ve been pulled to the right as far as I can so I’m not disrupting the flow of traffic anymore than I have to. I cringe each time a bicyclist has to swerve around my car. I watch a cab pull up to a couple. They climb in the back and the driver takes off. He glances in my direction as he passes me. He’s probably thinking, what a chump! And he’d be right. Rideshare drivers are total chumps! No self-respecting cabbie would wait longer than a few minutes to pick up a fare. If the passenger isn’t ready to go when they show up, fuck em! I’m inclined to split, but I’m giving Glen the benefit of the doubt. Cause I’m a chump. I just called him and he assured me that he’s on his way out. So I wait, like a chump, grateful I’m not in a worse position.

What’s wrong with this guy? I swear, some passengers can be real assholes. Not only do they request a ride and then make you wait, they don’t want to take more than a few steps to get in your car. So you have to make sure you get as close to their pinned location as possible while you block traffic waiting for them to mosey outside. Otherwise… otherwise, what? They rate you low. 

Uber passengers are definitely worse than their Lyft counterparts. Uber passengers make you flip a bitch to pick them up on the opposite side of the street. They send you into awkward driving situations without a single concern for what it’s like to drive a car in this city. And they make you wait. Its an epidemic.

Fuck you, Glen! You fucking scumbag dickhead cocksucking motherfucker!

Oh, is that him with the girl?

I look at them imploringly. Please be my passenger...

They walk past me.

Fuck! I fucking hate Glen! I wish I hadn’t called him and had just canceled. Now, because I’m such a chump, I keep waiting. Another Uber car pulls up behind me. Hey, fellow chump. I wonder how long you’ll have to wait.

Well, fuck! His passengers are ready to go. Lucky bastard.

Just as I’m about to hit “cancel-no show,” dickhead Glen shows up with his chick. They climb in the back.

“Sorry for the delay,” the girl says.

“No problem.”

As I take them downtown, listening to them discuss their lame-ass jobs, I hate myself just as much as I hate them for playing along with their self-entitled douchebaggery. 

I think this is the last time. From now on I won’t wait longer than two minutes. Three at the most. Maybe four, if it’s not a busy street.


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