A Grim Grape Soda Epiphany

I drop off my fare on the Princeton campus, and the app has me set up for the next one. I have nine rides to go on the shift to clear the bonus and claw back a couple of hours away from the hustle. As I head towards the road to get to the next step in my shift, I pull out a large bottle of grape soda to whet my whistle. 

Which, well, turns into a geyser in my lap. 

I open the door and try prevent some of the drink from hitting me and my poor car, and reach for the car towel, paper towels and antiseptic wipes that are always within reach. (It's a small car, and I'm an organized soul.) Within I few seconds, I've limited the damage and blotted, and I'm soaked and sticky and not happy in the least. 

At this point, I had the following options. 

1) Cancel the upcoming ride and spend a chunk of time cleaning up. I won't be dry by the end of it, but I won't be sticky. 

2) Delay the upcoming ride and do the same. 

3) Cancel the ride and go home (it's 10-15 minutes away) and change my clothes. 

4) Just, well, drive. 

I chose option 4, because 

 a) It's dark out and no one's going to notice my stained pants. 

b) I have 3/4s of a tank of gas, and I'm not going to have to get out of the car until the end of the shift, at my home. 

c) I just want to, well, get the damn shift done and the bonus activated. 

Three hours later, I'm done, and the next day, there's no evidence of the explosion. Worked out. 

But not without a cost, really. 

I tend to dress the part of a business professional. Collared shirt, shave, not pushing any boundaries. It helps to drain the energy out of people who have been overserved, and I think it leads to a little bit of a more controlled environment. I've always thought that this was part of the reason why other rideshare drivers, when I've talked to them, always have more colorful or out of control stories than mine. 

But, well, maybe it's just luck, and no one really notices or cares if the driver's a mess, honestly. 

Drive on.