Showing posts with label lyft confessional. Show all posts
Showing posts with label lyft confessional. Show all posts

Monday, December 8, 2014

A Day in the Life of a Rideshare Driver


(an excerpt from Behind the Wheel 2: Notes from an Uber/Lyft)


Most days, I wake up around noon. Usually hung-over. My first thought is always the same: probably should’ve skipped that last drink. At the time, though, it felt absolutely necessary. Vodka has a way of alleviating some of the physical stress from driving a car all night. At least temporarily.

After several months of driving for Lyft and Uber, my neck is like an open wound. The muscles that run from my shoulder to my jaw are steel rods. I have very little radius when I turn my head left or right. The tension never goes away. It makes my teeth ache. There is a real possibility that I have some dislocated vertebrae. My joints hurt. My right ankle has a creak in it. And I have a chronic case of hemorrhoids. No matter how much ointment I apply, they remain perpetually enflamed. Old age has not only crept up on me, it has run past me and turned around to taunt me.


Besides the physical exhaustion of driving a car in the city, there is also the psychological toll. It’s one thing to maintain a diligent eye on my blind spots, the other cars on the road, speeding bicyclists and cavalier pedestrians, but I also have to project a sunny disposition and be accommodating to my passengers. Or risk a negative rating. Not an easy task when I’d rather be committing murder. And yet, with enough Ativan and caffeine in my system, somehow I make it through another shift. Like when the endorphins kick in after a boot to the nut sack, these superficial interactions with complete strangers have a numbing effect after awhile. As long as it’s busy and I have enough rides to keep my mind off the grueling process. The slow nights can be torture and I can’t wait to get home so I can pummel my brain with alcohol, pills and weed until I stop obsessing over the streets of San Francisco, their order and how they intersect with each of the forty-seven neighborhoods.


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Wednesday, November 12, 2014

Trick or Treat: Lyft Wants ME to Be a Mentor?


I have to say, I’m somewhat flattered that Lyft took the time to email me the morning after Halloween with an invitation to be a Mentor. On what was supposed to be the busiest night of the year for ridesharing, Lyft had to deal with a server outage that caused snafus for drivers and passengers alike. Then there was the Sacramento passenger who died in a wreck on the freeway. This is Lyft’s first fatality. And the first rideshare passenger killed during a ride.


It was a hell of a night for Uber too. Their servers also went down worldwide. And they had to fend off the usual criticism for surge pricing.


On top of all that, both Lyft and Uber were offering drivers an hourly guarantee. In San Francisco, it was forty bucks.

Despite the guarantee, I stayed home and watched slasher flicks with the Wife. We did Halloween, Halloween 2, Scream and Scream 2.


The next morning, the Facebook groups were inundated with screenshots of extremely high fares. Once the server issues were sorted out, prices surged 5x in San Francisco and LA. In other cities, they went as high as 9x. Drivers who powered through the glitches took home some serious treats. While several passengers were just tricked.

I felt a mild pang of disappointment that I missed out on the shit show, but the email from Lyft certainly raised my spirits. In fact, I laughed my ass off. I have to assume it was another server error. I mean, really… They want ME to be a Mentor? Me? The person who continuously trashes their brand? Who made fun of the Pacific Driver Lounge? And who wrote a scathing post that sent all the Lyft loyalists into such a tizzy? Me?




Are they completely out of their fucking minds?


I’m tempted to accept the invitation just to see if they would actually approve me. And if they did… Well, that would only validate my theory that Lyft and Uber don’t give two shits what you say about them online. Regardless of what many think, we work for a computer. All that matters is how well you drive. And as far as Lyft’s algorithm is concerned, I’m good enough to be a Lyft Mentor.

Me!


Sunday, August 31, 2014

Taking a Lyft Zine and a Lyft to the San Francisco Zine Fest

Assembling Lyft zines for the San Francisco Zine Fest


DAY ONE: 

Rush out the door in the morning for day one of the SF Zine Fest and the car won't start. Flashing lights on the dash, flickering needles, an ominous clicking sound... 

Since the car spent the previous afternoon on the fritz, we have a contingency plan. I grab the two boxes of zines and dump them into our large rolling suitcase. The Wife calls a Lyft. 

A few minutes later, a nice older gentleman in a minivan drives us to the Bart. He's a retired dispatch supervisor for the city of Oakland. Doesn't like driving in San Francisco. Says when he gets a fare across the bridge, he turns off his app and hightails it back to the East Bay. I tell him I do the opposite. It's not a long ride to the MacArthur station. With Lyft's recently implemented lower rates, the fare is a shameful $5. The Wife tips him another $5. 

After some difficulty getting through the turnstiles and almost taking the wrong train (I never use Bart and the Wife, who does, is still half asleep), we race under the Bay at warp speed. The doors are literally shaking. 

At 16th and Mission, the closest Bart station to the Inner Sunset, where the fest is being held, we request another Lyft. Our driver this time is a former cabbie. Says he loves working for Lyft, but gripes about the new low rates. I know, I tell him. I'm making about $200 less a week from a month ago. The Lyft guy who shuttled the Wife to my rescue when the car stopped working the day before in West Oakland had a long list of grievances and seemed absolutely grateful to have a opportunity to express them to another driver. Not to mention the chorus of complaints I read every day on the Facebook groups for drivers. Lyft and Uber drivers are in open revolt, pawns in the rideshare price wars... 

We talk about metaphysics and relationships for the rest of the trip. Pull up to the venue only ten minutes late. 


the Wife and our table mate Sarah Bitely

Set up next to our regular table mate, the lovely Sarah Bitely who does the comic Pimpkillah. While the girls catch up (it's officially been a year since we started tabling together), I make the rounds. Say hello to some folks. V. Vale. Joe Biel. Tomas Moniz. John Marr. Score a Flipside from '82 for a buck at a vintage zine booth. Head back to the table. 

As suspected, the Lyft zine is popular. The other two zines I just reprinted, the Cult of Teddy Ruxpin and The Murky Realm, are moving as well. And people like the SHUT UP AND PUBLISH stickers. I give away a bunch. The "disrupt the disruptors" stickers are almost gone. 

The fest ends sooner than expected. We say our goodbyes, eat burgers and walk out of the congestion along Irving as two Muni trains go by. We have to feed two cats in the Mission for a friend at Burning Man. Too exhausted to figure out how to use the Muni, we call a Lyft. The ride to the fest was only $11. 

Within two minutes, a young guy in an Altima picks us up. Drives us over the hill into the Mission. Only been doing Lyft a few weeks, but after telling him I drove too, he goes off about the low fares. All those $6 rides, of which we only get $4.80 after Lyft's cut. The ride this time is $12. I round up again and leave a nice comment when I rate him 5 stars. 

Hang out with the cats awhile, water some plants and make the long slog back to Oakland. Crash out. Still one more day of the fest. And plenty of Lyft zines to move.


My wares for the San Francisco Zine Fest
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DAY TWO:



We stumble bleary-eyed and half-caffeinated into the sunshine at ten AM on Sunday for day two of the SF Zine Fest. Walk to the Bart and catch a Millbrae train right away. After the last Oakland stop, it rockets under the Bay. Google says the Bart can go up to 80 mph, but with all the shaking and the deafening hum, it feels like we're heading to the moon. 

We get off at 16th and Mission. Stroll up to Church to see where the J Line goes. Not Golden Gate Park. Call a Lyft. It's 25% Prime Time. We get an older guy. Says he just started driving for Lyft. Does it part time. Knows his way around without navigation though. Tells us he's lived in the Western Addition twenty years. A pleasant, friendly ride. We talk about the low rates. He asks if there's a difference with Uber. I tell him it's basically the same deal, price-wise, but there's no tipping and the passengers aren't as friendly. He likes Lyft. Says he prefers to talk. It makes the ride go faster. I agree. The three of us chat. Next thing I know, we're at the venue. 11:30. It took an hour and a half to get from Oakland to the Inner Sunset after a combination of walking, the Bart, a little more walking and a Lyft. Which was $11 with $2 extra for prime time. Wouldn't 25% be $2.75? I guess Lyft rounds down. I add four more dollars to the total. 



The fest starts off slow. And stays slow. Our table mate Sarah drops in for a little while, packs up and leaves to take a brief tour of the city before she heads back to LA. She doesn't miss much. On Saturday, I used my Square card reader at least ten times. Today, not once. Some cool trades though. I make the rounds again, talk to folks, sell a few Lyft zines and give away a bunch of stickers. 

Around 3:00 things pick up, but an hour later, the fest is over. We load up and say our goodbyes. Walk down Lincoln. I'm dragging the suitcase, leaden with unsold zines and books, wooden display boxes and a full bottle of wine. 

Six blocks later, I check the Lyft app. No drivers. We summon an Uber instead. Within 2 minutes, a former cabbie in a suit and cap pulls up and tries to load the suitcase for me. I protest. Heft it into his trunk myself. We get in the back. He suggests Oak Street and off we go. Traffic is bad, but he and the Wife are talking about his career as a cabbie and subsequent transition to Uber. He says he does UberBlack as well. Hence, the suit. Started with Uber when he was still driving a yellow cab and Uber just had UberBlack and UberTaxi. At first the cab companies didn't mind Uber, he says. They were getting more rides from the referrals. But after UberX was introduced, business went down. He switched over to rideshare and drives a taxi one day a week to keep his place on the cab medallion waiting list. He's also looking to get a TCP license. After that, he's legal no matter what. I tell him I've been noticing a lot of TCP cars around town. This is how Uber will win, he tells us. Regardless of what happens with ridesharing, they will always have the TCP drivers and the ability to lure cabbies away from the taxi companies with the promise of starting their own businesses. And he has a point. His car looks more like a cab than somebody's vehicle being used to ferry people around town as a side gig. There are credit card stickers on the window and a huge GPS system on his dash like you'd see in cabs. He seems happy, chatting away as he weaves in and out of traffic with a keen eye to the fluctuations in traffic. Like a pro. He is a much better driver than me. 

The Wife is looking at the map in the Uber app which shows our car moving through the city. She suggests we go to the Civic Center Bart instead of the one in the Mission. Our driver agrees. It's about the same distance by car but one stop less on the train. He takes Franklin to Grove. I tell him to just let us out a block away where it's safe to pull over and get the suitcase out of the trunk. 

We head to the station entrance. The escalator is not working. Lug the suitcase down the stairs as people scoot by on the left. A Pittsburgh train arrives as we reach the landing. The train is packed. With each stop downtown, more people pour in. The Giants game just let out. While we grasp the handrails and do the herky-jerky with our fellow passengers, the Wife completes the Uber transaction. Our ride was $11.34. The same rate as Lyft. I can't tip, she says. Then it hits me. Uber doesn't allow tipping through the app. You can't pay more even if you want to. But I have cash! It just totally escaped my mind. I feel like such a tool. After complaining bitterly in the past about not getting tipped as a driver, I do the same thing! Oh well. 

Our weekend of using rideshares is adding up. But it saves us from having to take the bus, which would increase the already long commute by an hour or so. And we get to meet some interesting people along the way. 

Like the guy on the Bart who calls himself Elvis. He's standing right next to us and, gesturing at our suitcase, says, I take it you're not coming back from the game. We tell him about the zine fest. He's curious. We explain zines and independent publishing. The Wife gives him a Lyft zine. Another guy behind me asks if I go to APE. I say I had in the past, but the APE is more for comics. All the while the conductor is yelling over the intercom, pissed about somebody jamming his doors. A few people wonder aloud if he's having a nervous breakdown. It's a relief to finally reach our stop and make the final slog home. That bottle of wine has our name on it.

Tuesday, August 26, 2014

How to Get Kicked Out of A Lyft Driver Lounge: Write a Blog Post



For the uninitiated, or those just joining us, this is the timeline and the links to the blogposts that got my kicked out of the official Lyft Facebook group for drivers in San Francisco, the Pacific Driver Lounge. 


I started driving for Lyft in March of 2014. From the beginning, since I fancy myself a writer and publish the occasional book and/or zine, I planned to keep a “driver’s log” of my experiences as a Lyft driver. In July, I published a zine called Behind the Wheel. Some of the material I’d written for the zine didn’t make the cut. For whatever reason… perhaps it wasn’t good enough or maybe it was too technical… who knows. (Just don’t ask the Wife about it… she's a brutal critic.)

Anyway, for the hell of it, I posted several outtakes on my Medium page, including a very ad hominem take on the fanaticism of Lyft drivers:


A few weeks later, in a late night, pot- and alcohol-induced flurry of impulsivity, I posted a link to the piece on a Facebook group for rideshare drivers called Uber, SideCar, Lyft Drivers Community. Not expecting much but a few page views (who doesn’t love clicks), I woke up the next morning to a shit storm. Somebody from the community forum had posted it on the Pacific Driver lounge. Other drivers had reposted it on Lounges for their cities. I had over a thousand page views in a few hours and the clicks just kept on coming. Not only were Lyft drivers reposting the story, Uber drivers were propagating it as well. The response was overwhelming. Some people laughed, most people got upset, numerous people talked smack... people did all the things people do on the internet. It was hilarious that folks would get so upset over a half-baked rant written on my iPhone as I was passing out from a hard night of Lyfting in the city (and a few stupefacients when I got home).

Some of the comments were pretty funny so I collected a bunch and posted them on my blog:


Since it seemed germane to the group, I posted a link on the Uber, SideCar, Lyft Drivers Community forum. I tweeted a link to it as well. Which isn’t saying much. I only have 190 followers.

Shortly after that, Matt Jensen, a community outreach person for Lyft, or something called a "Lounge mentor" (if anybody can clarify his position, please leave a comment), tweeted at me asking for suggestions to improve the Lyft experience. I posted this constructive and very earnest -- at least in my mind -- response: 


After posting links, I was no longer able to access the Pacific Driver Lounge. 

Not that I was surprised. After all, I collected all the comments because I figured I'd be kicked out. I knew, from being a member of the Lounge that people got expelled from the Lounge all the time. And not just for getting in accidents, but for the silliest of offenses, like talking bad about Lyft.

C’est la vie. No more Honey Boo Boo for me.

About two weeks later, I found a personal message from Matt Jensen about being removed from the Lounge in my “other” inbox on Facebook. (Why do we need an “other” inbox anyway?) It was rife with paranoia, suggesting I shared “lounge details” with Uber. As if I had some connection to Uber, besides taking $500 from them for that one ride deal they offered back in May. 

Even though it was somewhat offensive that I never received an official email letting me know that I was banned from the Lounge, sending a Facebook message that he had to know would go to my “other” folder on Facebook since we weren’t friends seemed a little… unfriendly. Still, it was nice to get some communication about it. I took a screengrab and posted it on my blog:


So that about wraps it up.

Well, not exactly.

Recently, a lawyer contacted me about a case she was working on for another driver who was kicked out of the Lounge. Something about unlawful retaliation in the workplace or discrimination in the workplace… Wanted me to discuss my experience with Lyft and the Lounge… I wrote this blogpost instead.

I don’t know, man… lawsuits are a bit of a stretch. If you're able to sift through all this social media/blogpost nonsense, it’s obvious I was toying with Lyft. They made a play, I countered and they cried foul.

Wah.

The Lyft folks are a bunch of big babies. Somebody needs to call them a wahbulance.

The only downside to all this tomfoolery is that I got kicked out of the Lounge. Which sucks. Not only is the Lounge a place for drivers to get information about changes to Lyft policies and the driving experience in San Francisco, it’s also extremely entertaining. Is there anything better than gawking at a collective lack of self-awareness?

Lyft, please let back into the Pacific Driver Lounge.


I miss my Honey Boo Boo!

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Tuesday, July 29, 2014

The First Lyft Zine: Behind the Wheel: A Lyft Driver's Log


NOW AVAILABLE:

Piltdownlad #10 – Behind the Wheel: A Lyft Driver’s Log

From the trenches of San Francisco’s sharing economy: A Lyft Zine. 

Ride shotgun with me as I cruise through San Francisco’s latest Tech Boom and divulge the stories, conversations and opinions of the passengers I pick up along the way. 

Illustrated with navigational maps of the city (so you don't get lost). Direct orders include a free "disrupt the disruptors" sticker: 



56 pages | staple bound | $5.00 postpaid

Available in San Francisco at: 


Adobe Bookshop 24th Street, between Folsom and Shotwell, in the Mission
Alley Cat Books 24th Street, between Treat and Folsom, in the Mission
Bound Together Haight Street, between Masonic and Central
City Lights North Beach, at Columbus and Broadway
Dog Eared Books 20th and Valencia, in the Mission
Needles & Pens 16th Street, between Guerrero and Dolores in the Mission 
Press 24th Street, between Folsom and Shotwell, in the Mission 

An ePamphlet is available through Kindle.


Order online direct through the Piltdownlad Etsy store.

OR


Order through PayPal: