Risky Analysis  

 

In general I love being a rideshare driver.  It takes me out of myself, which is always a good thing for people who tend to stay inside themselves a lot.  Sometimes I get downright claustrophobia inside myself - so meeting new people and taking them to places they want to go is a really cool way to spend a few hours.  But ….

 

The risks in this kind of work are great.  Beyond the usual possibilities  – getting in an accident, (which I tried and didn’t like) – getting a red light camera ticket ($490) (which I paid even though I wasn’t guilty) the prospect of getting mugged, robbed and hijacked (which I haven’t tried yet but expect will be fun),  there’s the intensely psychological risk.  If a passenger thinks you think you’re more important than they are - you’re cooked - just like those scrambled eggs I love.  I’ve learned this the hard way after giving rides and getting flattened by ratings from pampered, ego-infested, cock-sure, Marin teenagers who are charging the ride to daddy’s credit card.  

 

For the record, the overwhelming majority of teens I’ve given rides to have been a delight – intelligent, courteous and personable.  But it’s the few bad ones that get lodged in your consciousness like a piece of rancid chicken that’s been caught between your teeth.  It causes pain every time you chew on a thought.  No amount of mental flossing can seem to get rid of the memory of a few spoiled brats who have inherited a sense of entitlement from a father or mother who no doubt is an extremely semi-important personage.  Sometimes in such trying circumstances, it’s difficult to remember I’m these kids personal driver too - as Uber makes a point of emphasizing in their PR material.