Uber Adventure 1
As I just started driving for Uber, I decided that another good time to do some driving is to get my feet wet on a weeknight with an event. There was a professional basketball game in the city, one of the events that will prompt many a rider customer. So I figured I would head into the city once again and see where the Uber app took me. After a quick pit stop in Tremont killing a bit of time before the game ended, once again, you never know where or how this app is going to apply to you or where you will go but must remember to embrace every situation, keep a certain distance between you and the other person, and go forth.
Surprisingly on this night, I did not end up picking up a lot of people I was taking from the game (home, a hotel, a bar, etc.). Instead I gave two rides to those who attended the game, another few in between bars, and then over to one of my city's establishments in the rock community, The Agora Theater. Since when do attendees of rock clubs start looking like 12 year olds!? Am I THAT old already?! I guess so. The first ride was for two women who went to their hotel nearby, no mess, no fuss. The very next ride had me return to The Agora, and I picked up three guys in their twenties who were obviously hammered. I figured, hey, that's what guys in their twenties do. Then I saw our next destination on the GPS : The Larry Flynt Hustler Club. I didn't say a word, I just pressed the appropriate buttons.
Some riders are eager to strike up conversations, others just nod off to sleep or stay glued to their phones. Some would rather talk to each other rather than me, whatever they choose is fine. Some have expressed their concerns about my being a woman and going at this alone, but I have gone forth on many an adventure not letting that get in my way. "Don't be afraid." This will not stop others being afraid for me, but it's all relative. And I digress ... These twenty somethings were anticipating their trip to the Hustler Club. I didn't say much. One had way too much after shave on, it was offensive but I didn't say anything about it. And it was masking the horrendous smell in the backseat from a recent grocery shopping trip where some milk had leaked into the seat and had since gone bad. I try not to be conversational with people, I've since learned to be more standoffish with strangers rather than be openly friendly upon a first contact. This ride was one of the more conversational ones. The guy next to me told me he was from Pittsburgh rather than here, I said "Oh nice, here for the week or so?" He said yes. He asked me if I had ever met three gorgeous men from Pittsburgh before. I gave him one of my side glances and said "Not all at the same time, no." I thought that would be that, but no, he was about to ask something else related to his appearance. I said "I don't go for the muscle studs." That seemed to arrest him. Had a third question come into play, I would have pulled out the big gun with "Maybe I should call my boyfriend, the cop."
We were, as I said, on our way to the Hustler Club. One tried to make lite of it, saying he thought this was a high end piano bar. I just responded with "Hmm ..." Then he said "I bet we'll meet respectable women there like in a church single's group." I said "What you do is your business, not mine." He said "You're not like other women."
"What?"
"You're not like other women."
"How's that?"
"Most women would go "Ewww! That's nasty!" when they hear this."
"I suppose so, yes."
"So why aren't you reacting the way most women would?"
"I think that's a very complicated question. But to answer it, I figure what you or others do is really none of my business and I should stay out of it."
"Oh ..."
They had come from seeing a band at The Agora. One suddenly made a sound and said he forgot to buy (woman's first name) a T shirt and he promised he would. Then he tapped me on the shoulder and said "Would you be mad if your fiance promised to buy you a T shirt and forgot?" I decided to play along.
"I would be disappointed but I would not hold it over their head for a long time. It's only a thing."
"What would you do if your fiance pissed you off?"
"It would have to be something very serious."
"Would you give him the silence treatment?"
"I ... I don't know."
"What if it was something REALLY bad?"
"I am far more diabolical than most women, you wouldn't want to know what I would do."
"What would you do?"
"Sleep with his best friend, that would even up the score."
After that, he remained silent.
When we finally reached the Hustler Club, I pulled to the curb and they got out. While I was readjusting my phone to complete the drive and pick up the next rider, I said "Be safe. And watch out for (name), she's evil." They looked back at me. "You KNOW some of these women?"
"I do."
"How?"
"That's my secret."
I hope they had a nice evening, if they remember me at all. The next ride was a woman I picked up after a late shift at work with two little children and an infant and took her to the east side. I was about to run out of juice on the phone and decided to call it a night. I had just enough power to make it back to the highway and then I knew my way home. It suddenly occurred to me that the last trip was my first trip to the east side, there is/was a world over there I am not familiar with in terms of the types of riders or circumstance. I guess that's another blog. New plan: In the future my rest day will be Wednesday rather than Thursday, and perhaps Sunday.
Surprisingly on this night, I did not end up picking up a lot of people I was taking from the game (home, a hotel, a bar, etc.). Instead I gave two rides to those who attended the game, another few in between bars, and then over to one of my city's establishments in the rock community, The Agora Theater. Since when do attendees of rock clubs start looking like 12 year olds!? Am I THAT old already?! I guess so. The first ride was for two women who went to their hotel nearby, no mess, no fuss. The very next ride had me return to The Agora, and I picked up three guys in their twenties who were obviously hammered. I figured, hey, that's what guys in their twenties do. Then I saw our next destination on the GPS : The Larry Flynt Hustler Club. I didn't say a word, I just pressed the appropriate buttons.
Some riders are eager to strike up conversations, others just nod off to sleep or stay glued to their phones. Some would rather talk to each other rather than me, whatever they choose is fine. Some have expressed their concerns about my being a woman and going at this alone, but I have gone forth on many an adventure not letting that get in my way. "Don't be afraid." This will not stop others being afraid for me, but it's all relative. And I digress ... These twenty somethings were anticipating their trip to the Hustler Club. I didn't say much. One had way too much after shave on, it was offensive but I didn't say anything about it. And it was masking the horrendous smell in the backseat from a recent grocery shopping trip where some milk had leaked into the seat and had since gone bad. I try not to be conversational with people, I've since learned to be more standoffish with strangers rather than be openly friendly upon a first contact. This ride was one of the more conversational ones. The guy next to me told me he was from Pittsburgh rather than here, I said "Oh nice, here for the week or so?" He said yes. He asked me if I had ever met three gorgeous men from Pittsburgh before. I gave him one of my side glances and said "Not all at the same time, no." I thought that would be that, but no, he was about to ask something else related to his appearance. I said "I don't go for the muscle studs." That seemed to arrest him. Had a third question come into play, I would have pulled out the big gun with "Maybe I should call my boyfriend, the cop."
We were, as I said, on our way to the Hustler Club. One tried to make lite of it, saying he thought this was a high end piano bar. I just responded with "Hmm ..." Then he said "I bet we'll meet respectable women there like in a church single's group." I said "What you do is your business, not mine." He said "You're not like other women."
"What?"
"You're not like other women."
"How's that?"
"Most women would go "Ewww! That's nasty!" when they hear this."
"I suppose so, yes."
"So why aren't you reacting the way most women would?"
"I think that's a very complicated question. But to answer it, I figure what you or others do is really none of my business and I should stay out of it."
"Oh ..."
They had come from seeing a band at The Agora. One suddenly made a sound and said he forgot to buy (woman's first name) a T shirt and he promised he would. Then he tapped me on the shoulder and said "Would you be mad if your fiance promised to buy you a T shirt and forgot?" I decided to play along.
"I would be disappointed but I would not hold it over their head for a long time. It's only a thing."
"What would you do if your fiance pissed you off?"
"It would have to be something very serious."
"Would you give him the silence treatment?"
"I ... I don't know."
"What if it was something REALLY bad?"
"I am far more diabolical than most women, you wouldn't want to know what I would do."
"What would you do?"
"Sleep with his best friend, that would even up the score."
After that, he remained silent.
When we finally reached the Hustler Club, I pulled to the curb and they got out. While I was readjusting my phone to complete the drive and pick up the next rider, I said "Be safe. And watch out for (name), she's evil." They looked back at me. "You KNOW some of these women?"
"I do."
"How?"
"That's my secret."
I hope they had a nice evening, if they remember me at all. The next ride was a woman I picked up after a late shift at work with two little children and an infant and took her to the east side. I was about to run out of juice on the phone and decided to call it a night. I had just enough power to make it back to the highway and then I knew my way home. It suddenly occurred to me that the last trip was my first trip to the east side, there is/was a world over there I am not familiar with in terms of the types of riders or circumstance. I guess that's another blog. New plan: In the future my rest day will be Wednesday rather than Thursday, and perhaps Sunday.
Comments
Post a Comment