> The pick up comes for a suburban house. I get a married couple in their '50s, going to a live music venue / nuisance bar on the waterfront. They are going there on the behest of their daughter, who is there and thinks they will like the band. The passenger is a firefighter of 30-odd years, and we don't have an awful lot in common, but the gig requires a certain amount of codeswitch.
As they are leaving the car, the wife says to the husband, "Don't leave your gun in the car." My man makes a d'oh like noise and moves on, and later tips.
I live in America. I've done rideshare off and on for five years. Over 19,000 people have been in the car. It's likely not the first time that someone in the car has been packing heat.
Just the first time I've, well, known.
> Another passenger, this one masking and not liking it. "So, are you a big vaccine guy?" With attitude. I give it a moment, and with a little bit of tender in the voice, reply, "Of course. My wife is high risk, and I love her very much. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I knew that I gave her a virus."
It had a couple of advantages. It took down the snotty tone. It changed what could have been an awkward conversation. And it was also true, which made it easy to say. (And it distracted her, I think, from a quick re-lowering of the windows.)
> I've been doing more later at night, because several of my clients in the main hustle have gone dark. This mostly involves working in Trenton, the state capital of New Jersey and a place that has, well, a great deal of challenges.
As I'm heading south on Route 1, I steer the car through a debris field from a recent accident. Police and fire haven't arrived yet, and I'm not exactly an EMT, so I just move on through it to get my fare to their destination. The next ping involves me heading back up Route 1 on the north side, about 10 minutes after the drop off. One of the cars involved is flipped over and burning so hard that I can feel the heat on the other side of the road. Still no police or fire, and no word about it on the news the next day. Things happen in Trenton.
> As the weather has been nice and many people in the area have decided to make a Polaris or dirt bike purchase, you often find yourself in the midst of road rallies. It's surprising how quickly this just becomes part of the scenery, honestly -- but you can imagine how it might not do much for the property values. (Also, the older I get, the more I want to spread the false meme that people who play their music very loudly for the benefit of others are, in fact, advertising their availability and interest in remarkable and unconventional sexual acts. Kind of like the old-school color of a man's handkerchief.)
> Drunk passengers on what they claim to be their first Uber ride (it's 2021; how is this possible?) ask several times if I ever have to deal with (profanity redacted).
Thought, but not said, "Well, there's this ride..."
> Pick up from the Trenton train station. Single woman, with luggage, weeping and inconsolable. An aunt has been taken off life support, and the last train has left. There's nothing to do for her but take her back to her apartment... but at the risk of having things go worse, and because I can't help but try to help, I say something to the effect of the following.
My people, the Irish, have a saying -- that everyone passes twice. The first is mechanical, the second, the last time someone says your name. And that while I don't know my passenger or her aunt, the depth of her feeling for her loss tells me that she will be with her loved ones for a long time. In the cold light of day, it's trite, but late at night in an intimate setting, it helped.
I got her home and did two things that I haven't done since the start of the pandemic: carry her luggage and give her a hug. And feel just a little bit better about working a side gig late at night.
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