Story Time: Hard To Keep Safe

And second, and third...

It's the last ride of the night and week, as I've made my number with margin to spare. The ping comes from Jack London Square, which is kind of the East Bay's much better answer to Fisherman's Wharf. It's a shared ride, and the first passenger is coming off a shift at a restaurant, en route to a karaoke bar. She's overdosed on perfume and sits in the front seat, and kind of wifty, but what hey, life is short and I'm here to be busy. I start the ride but have to pick up a second passenger a couple of blocks away. And away we go, first into Oakland proper then to the neighborhood around 98th Street. (Note: note the best part of Oakland.)

My second passenger is a little bit intoxicated and a little bit pushy about using the aux cord, but that's really not the problem. The problem is more along the lines that she seems eager to get into some confrontational conversation with the person in the front seat. Luckily for all concerned, front seat passenger gets out first before things can escalate, and after a few minutes of enduring bad mouthing to the departed, I'm looking forward to 3-starring both of these folks and going directly to my bed.

Which is when we come upon one of those scenes that you really only see in marginal neighborhoods. Tonight, it's a bare-shirt bare-knuckle fight among two guys who are probably in their late teen years, with a crowd of onlookers rooting them on... in the middle of the street. Which I can't just, well, drive through.

My passenger is also now eager to leap out of the car and tell these people exactly what she thinks of their activity, which isn't exactly conducive to my personal goals for the evening. Mostly, just to get the hell out of Dodge with as little fanfare as possible.

I lock the doors, stay still and patient, and point out to my passenger that our MMA wannabees don't have any weapons, so let's just breathe a bit.

The duellists part and leave the street clear. I take the passenger to her home and shut down for the night.

Just another fare, in the long run.

But kind of almost not...

What Every Passenger Should Do

Maybe Put On Pants

Every passenger? Yes, every single one. No exceptions. Let's get into them.

> Acknowledge your driver with a modicum of politeness. You don't need to get into a great heart to heart conversation with your driver, and there are plenty of days when I'm totally fine with not being fully "on" for everyone that gets into the car... but if you are the kind of person  who goes for the aggressive THANK YOU as a way of cutting off any possibility of conversation, you might want to know that you are projecting as Douchebag. If you say hello and then stare at your phone, I guarantee you that your driver will get the hint that you are busy and leave you alone.

> Double check your address. Every time a passenger types in the wrong address, it's a disaster, which is why I do my level best to confirm it with every passenger. It doesn't always happen that way, Because Life. Get it right and check. The time and money you save will be your own, but your driver doesn't want to take you to the wrong place, either.

> Check your privilege. As your driver, I'm going to take you to your destination. If you need me to do more than that, with possible asks including but not limited to speeding because you are late, adding in extra stops that you can't punch into the app because you haven't figured out how to do that or think it will cost you more money, playing music at an uncomfortable volume, and so on... well, that's another price level. One that neither of us can afford.

> Double-check your exit. I really don't want your stuff, and I also don't want to have to figure out some other drop off where I hand deliver your stuff back to you. Even for the fee that I make from that. It's not worth it to either of us.

> Consider tipping, if not actually doing it. The vast majority of rideshare passengers do not tip, and many seem to think that tipping is just outside of the realm of possibility. I've had rides where the passenger was in the car for an inordinate amount of time, had what seemed to be a great conversation, took extra service from baggage carrying, partaking from water, mints and cough drops, and so on... and still pretty much stiffed me.

Seriously, what the hell?

All tip money goes directly to the driver. If you are angry about a surge price, taking that out of the tip is kind of, well, misguided, since drivers are independent contractors, rather than the service who is administering the price. You are getting personal service, customized to your needs, from someone who is giving you transport in their own personal vehicle. Throw 'em a freaking dollar at least.

And yes, I do for every drive I take, and I take Lyft fairly often for rides to the airport.

Five Ways To Get Three Stars (Or Less)

Or, Not Very

Here's something that many passengers don't realize: drivers rate you at the end of the ride, the same way you rate us. The default is five stars, and the vast majority of my passengers get that many from me... but, well, Not All.

If a driver gives a passenger three stars, they aren't paired again. If a driver gives a passenger one star with a particularly good reason and story, there's a reasonable chance that the passenger will get bounced out of the system. (This is, inevitably, when someone asks me if I've ever given a one-star rating. The answer is yes, but very, very rarely, and it's mostly been around acts of violence. The job isn't always fun, folks.)

Since I'm picking up a lot of folks, hopefully with as little latency as possible between rides, I don't normally have time to tap out a comment for my three-star riders. So here's the most common ways to get docked by me.

> Making your driver wait. Yes, we are compensated for up to 90 seconds in a shared drive, and up to five minutes in a regular one... but that compensation is literally pennies, and it's the rare moment, especially in urban settings, where we can find a great and open parking spot near your drop point. Folks who get in the car after a prolonged wait, especially without an apology or excuse, are pretty much broadcasting the belief that their time is valuable, and the driver's is not. Not exactly putting your best foot forward. Honestly, if the clock gets down to the final seconds, I'm pretty much rooting for you to not make it, so I can get my $5 kill fee without having to put up with you. And if there are people in the car for a shared ride, and we're all waiting? I've got company on the countdown.

> Eating, especially without asking. I don't generally have a ton of time between rides, and I also don't carry a vacuum cleaner with me (no, not even a dustbuster -- it's a little hatchback, so I keep as little in it as possible), so catching your crumbs and airing out the fumes from your meal is a big block of Hell No. My car is a shared public space. Eating in it imperils my future ratings and revenue. Wait and do it later, please.

> Audio without headphones. This one always kind of astounds me, whether it's in my car, or in a gym, elevator, subway or elsewhere. I get that your phone has the capacity to entertain you in a catered and perfect personal fashion. The chance that I'm going to be interested in your content is pretty damn low. Right up there with wanting to be subjected to it, especially in a shared ride. Get headphones. Use them. This isn't hard.

> Getting physical. I get that urges can seem overwhelming, and there's something cinematic about getting involved with your beloved in a semi-public space... but distracting your driver with the worry that there's a porno going on in the back seat isn't exactly polite. Or doing much for my peace of mind that the seats are going to be clean enough for the next folks to occupy. The ride isn't so long that you can't wait, honestly.

> Touching. There are some folks (drunk, usually, but not always) who seem to think I need a shoulder squeeze on the way in or out. I get that I'm adorable and nearly adult size and all, but let's just assume that I'm not buying a used car from a handsy closer, please.

> Olfactory issues. I get that you might be going to a club where you are going to sweat buckets, and that to compensate, you've made the tactical decision to triple up on the perfume or cologne. Or that you've just gotten off your shift at the Bleach and Death Factory, and there are no showers there. It's still making my vision not so good. At the very least, crack your window.

> Making my doors cry. Slamming the trunk or doors as if it's an Olympic event judged on volume and impact is just obnoxious, let alone destructive. Close them like a human, please. One who does not wan to pay a damage waiver.

> Making someone else my problem. If you are putting someone you no longer want to deal with in my car, but not joining us on the ride, you are giving me a passenger that I can't rate. More importantly, you are giving me someone who, if they become untenable, I can't really refuse service to, since they might not have any other means to get to their destination. Either don't do it, or accompany them on the ride.

Passenger Tips: Don't Save Five Stars For Marriage

Eyes On The Prize

Are you like me, Dear Reader, and possessing of a certain disdain for modern rating systems? Does giving a perfect rating for a service that isn't perfect just rankle, since it means that you can't really go the extra mile for truly exemplary service?

Well, um, please just stop. We've lost this fight, folks, and it's really not a good hill to die on. Here's why.

When you see my star ranking, what you are seeing isn't the entirety of my service, or the accumulated wisdom of all of the people who have ever been in my car.

Instead, you are seeing the rankings from the last 100 people who have taken a trip with me, and those rankings have to be 4.6 or better to say in the world, basically.

Now, this hasn't been a problem for me to date. (Why? I might be good at this, I offer amenities that other drivers don't offer, and maybe I've just gotten lucky so far. Ask me again in a few thousand rides.)

But when the sample data is cut down to just the last 100, it's really not going to take much to put me in jeopardy. Which is why the system is the way it is because Lyft doesn't want any of their drivers to get complacent.

Let me be perfectly clear about this. I'm not asking you to give me five stars to keep me in the system. But what I am asking is that if you choose to deduct stars, Have A Reason. Possibly with some typed feedback. Give me something I can work on to get better, rather than punish me because you are saving that fifth star for some future Magic Ride...

Story Time: Women Like That

Yay, America

I'm rolling out of San Jose when I get a ping for a shared ride. The pick up point is a motel, and in walk two women from Kazakhstan. (Or, at least, they tell me they are, and why would you lie about something like that?) I confirm their destination (the Dragon Gate in San Francisco), and we're on our way for the next hour or more, with weeknight traffic.

My passengers speak many languages, and English isn't in the first few of them, but we get along well enough. They are wildly curious about America and the Bay Area, and want to know where to eat, what to do, is Trump really crazy, and so on, and so on. They are also incredibly excited about being in the United States, having wanted to come here their whole lives.

In short, they are totally adorable, and talking to them is just the best. My own politics are left of America and moderate to the Bay Area, which means that in this time, it's easy for me to forget the good points about this country. But these charming young women are so excited to be here, and so endearing, I'm ready to change my mind about the whole place. We've got In N Out Burger! And the Embarcadero! And the Presidio! And great weather, and smart young people. Yay, America!

But, well, it's a shared ride. And there are Rideshare Gods, and the Rideshare Gods are generally funny. Which means that after about thirty minutes of driving, I get another ping from the app. Which isn't something that I can just ignore, Because Money, and because ride share drivers need to keep the acceptance rates up to stay in the system.

So I pull off 101 in San Mateo, and roll on up to my pick up point...

Aladdin Bail Bonds.

Oh, Lord. I don't pray often or much, but I'm praying... please don't be clients. Just work there. Or just use it as a landmark.

But, well, the Rideshare Gods are funny... and as I pick up to get my two new passengers (because Lyft sells every seatbelt, and considers my hatchback to seat four plus the driver, which is at least one too many but so be it), I tell them the same thing I've told the other four thousand plus passengers I've picked up.

Namely that there is water in the seatback pocket behind the driver, there are breath mints and cough drops in a handy little dish that they can have, and as a very small entry to a conversation if they want it, how's your day going?

One of my two newbies than says something I've never heard before, and hope never to hear again.

"Not so good. Just got out of jail."

I blink, try to ignore the vinyl record scratch moment that's playing in the eventual movie treatment of this experience, and try to roll with it. "Well. Thanks for sharing. Hey, we have guests to this country! They are from Kazakhstan, and they are looking for recommendations on what to do while they are in the area. I haven't lived here for most of my life, so where do you think they should go?"

Hint. Stop talking about jail. Good freaking Lord, who talks about jail to people they just met, let alone to someone who is going to carry you around in his own personal car? What kind of people do that? Oh, right, idiot criminals. That's the kind of thing that idiot criminals do...

But bless their hearts, they catch my hint. "Well, lotsa people like Chinatown, but I think you get more for your money in Japantown..."

Which is basically wrong, but what the hey, It's Not Jail. One of my original passengers looks sideways and contributes, "Are there... any places... ve should not go?"

Excellent question! Easily answered by a simple list of wherever these winners have been, honestly, but they don't take offense. "Well, some parts of Oakland are still kinda rough..."

And away we go, back up Highway 101 for about five to ten minutes of remarkably awkward conversation as I try to just focus on the road to make sure we can get these winners to where they are going to go, as they are getting out first. The destination turns out to be a really seedy motel near the airport, so there's really no need to ask why they were in jail earlier in the day, yes? Yes. But you gotta give it up for the work ethic, and for getting right back on the horse. So to speak.

I drove the winners off, bang a U-turn, and get back to 101 as quick as I can. The car is now quiet for an uncomfortably long period of time, and I'm missing the Yay America vibe... but I'm not quite sure how to get past the train wreck we just dropped off. "Well... that was... colorful?"

Which gets the tired little response of "Yes, ve haf women like that in our country too..."