It’s been around a while, but I’ve been too nervous to try it. It’s easy if you’re young or more experienced, but I’m neither of these. Also, I lack the confidence. There was something about that word that paralyzed me. I just couldn’t wrap my mind around those four letters.
Then, this past summer, stranded at an Indianapolis Airport, I had no choice. The time had come to face my fears. So, with a mixture of anxiety and trepidation, I tried something I thought I never would.
Uber.
My daughter, who was supposed to pick me up, had lost her car keys. “I’m sorry,” she said on the phone. “You should probably just Uber.”
“I guess I could Uber,” I said, hoping I was using the word correctly. I’m still not sure if Uber is a noun or a verb, or maybe an adjective?
I’m uber excited to take my first Uber ride!
I didn’t even know where to start. Do I just start yelling, “Uber! Uber!” like I was calling for a lost kitten. “Hey, little Uber…”
Obviously I didn’t do that.
I’m not a moron.
“Hey, Uber,” I whispered into my phone. “Are in you in there?” I stared at my phone, hoping my gentle tone would coax an Uber connection.
Twenty minutes later, after googling Uber, and through a series of trial and error, mostly error, I discovered that you neither call out for Uber, nor do you call Uber. Instead, there is an app (and not the yummy kind you eat before dinner) that must be installed.
Twenty more minutes, a forgotten password retrieved and entered, and Voila, an Uber App appeared on my phone.
I’m not going to lie to you. I was frightened.
The Uber App is a black square, with a white circle inside. Inside the circle is a smaller black square, with a thin line that cuts the circle horizontally. I have no idea what the Uber muckety-mucks were thinking when they created this logo, but it screams political uprising.
My Nextdoor Neighbor app is a logo of house. Twitter is a little bird. I wonder If Uber considered any other options, like, I don’t know, maybe A CAR!
I clicked on the app. A map appeared. Now that’s more like it.
Where to? It asked me.
I put in an address.
Instantly, I was told my driver will be at Ground Transportation in 10 minutes (I don’t want to brag, but I had already located Ground Transportation and was standing in the designated area)
I studied the app, realizing not only did it tell me my driver’s name, but it had her picture in a tiny oval in the bottom right, along with the make of her car and license plate number. But the real kicker was the little car that moved on the app. Linda is 8 minutes away. Linda is 6 minutes away. Linda is 3 minutes away. Every minute, the car was coming closer. What a rush!
Before I knew it, my app told me, Linda has arrived and Poof! Just like Cinderella in her carriage, Linda appeared in her Civic.
“Hi, I’m Linda,” she said, getting out of the car. I introduced myself as she put my luggage in the trunk.
And that’s when the panic hit.
Do I sit in front or back?
If it’s a cab ride, obviously I sit in the back. But this is Uber, and Uber is a whole new world.
As a Newber (one new to Uber), I cursed myself for not googling Uber etiquette. In the time I had just stood there like a simpleton, mesmerized by the tiny traveling car, I could have figured this out.
Hmm, if I sit in the back, I appear cold and distant.
But, if I sit in the front, I come off as intrusive and creepy.
I opened the front passenger door and slid in, hoping she might mistake intrusive and creepy for enthusiastic.
I smiled at Linda, who returned the smile. Clearly, I had made the right choice.
The drive from the airport to my Air BNB was a 20-minute ride. We talked about travel and family. She told me about her high school kids and I talked about my college-age kids.
It was all very pleasant.
But really, all I could think was, I’m doing it, I’m really doing it!
We weren’t there yet. But unless she crashed, which I doubted because she seemed like a competent driver, or she murdered me, which I also doubted, because she didn’t have a murdery vibe, I was going to make it.
Linda exited the freeway.
“You know, this is my first time using Uber,” I confessed.
“Really?” she replied. Then she started telling me about which colleges her daughter was interested in.
“I didn’t know it would be so easy,” I added.
“Oh, yeah, Uber’s great,” she said, and then went back to naming colleges.
Um, yeah, Uber is great Linda, but you know who else is great? Me! When this day started, I knew nothing of Uber, but look at me now!
It’s not like I was expecting a trophy.
A sticker would be nice.
“Here we are,” Linda said, pulling up a gravely driveway, next to a charming barn style house.
We both got out of the car.
“Well, thanks,” I said.
“You’re welcome.”
Is this where I tell her I conquered my Uber fears? Should we hug? High-five?
She reached back in the car and grabbed something.
I AM going to get a sticker!
She pulled out my glasses case that had fallen out of my purse and handed it to me.
And that was that.
During the trip I took Uber three more times and it did not disappoint.
The thrill one gets when an address is entered, a driver identified, and a tiny car travels closer and closer…
Jerrel is five minutes away.
Luis is two minutes away.
Emily has arrived.
There’s nothing like an Uber high!
And on all the rides, I continued to sit in the front, which I later shared with my daughter.
“It’s just like a cab ride,” my daughter said. “You sit in the back.”
“But that seems so impersonal,” I said.
My daughter sighed. “You’re not on a road trip with a buddy.”
But it felt like a road trip with a buddy.
In fact, on my recent Uber ride with Jerrel, we talked about the best waterparks in Indiana. You don’t get that kind of road trip-esque banter if you’re sitting in the back.
My last Uber ride of the trip occurred when I arrived at LAX. My husband called to tell me he wouldn’t be able to pick me up for an hour.
Does nobody in my family want to pick me up?
We were supposed to have breakfast at a coffee shop a few miles from the airport.
“I’ll meet you at the restaurant,” I told him, exiting the terminal. “I’ll Uber there.”
“I don’t know,” he said. “Uber at LAX is tricky.”
Apparently my husband wasn’t aware of my Uber capabilities.
Once again, I clicked on what was becoming my favorite app. Yoon would be there in 25 minutes. That’s a longer wait than I anticipated, but silver lining, that’s 25 minutes of the tiny traveling car.
As I waited, a business man, standing next to me, let out a stream of exasperated sighs.
I checked my phone.
Yoon is 19 minutes away.
Business man angrily punched keys on his IPhone.
I tore my eyes from the tiny car. “What’s the matter?” I asked.
He shook his head. “This app isn’t working.”
Turns out his app for another car service, which I won’t mention, but rhymes with miffed, wasn’t loading. And he didn’t have the Uber app.
What moron doesn’t have Uber on his phone?
I checked my phone.
“My Uber will be here in 15,” I told him. “I’m only going a couple miles, so you’re welcome to share.”
Business Man, who I later learned also went by Mark, looked at me. “Are you allowed to do that?”
Can one request an Uber ride and then brazenly add another rider, who is going to a different destination?
I looked at Yoon’s tiny oval face on my phone. He seemed like the kind of driver that would allow it.
“Sure,” I said.
When Yoon arrived 15 minutes later, I explained the situation
“This isn’t how it normally works,” Yoon said.
“I know,” I nodded. “It’s just that I’m only going a few miles and then you could take Mark to where he needs to go.”
Yoon looked us over.
I gave Yoon an, I know this is not the usual Uber procedure, but why don’t we help this chump out?
Yoon popped the trunk and picked up our luggage. “Okay,” he told Mark. “Just enter the address you’re going to, and request me as a driver.”
Mark got into the backseat.
He stared blankly at his phone.
For the first time in my Uber travels, I too got into the backseat.
Sorry Yoon.
As we pulled away from the curb, I helped Mark install the Uber app.
He had a lot to learn.