Even though I generally drive myself, like Miss Daisy I do need a lift once in awhile. Take last week for example. I was having day surgery on my hand for trigger finger and my husband had signed up for a golf tournament with a friend for that day. I needed ride to the clinic so an Uber ride seemed a good choice.
I left our one car with my husband. He was coming to get me because surgery clinics will not turn a person that has had even small surgery loose with a Uber driver. I know, that just didn't make sense to me! What is the worst that could happen? Right?
So the appointed hour arrived and I call Uber. My husband had me put the Uber app on my iphone and set me up with a credit card account. The app worked like a dream and I booked a driver. I could see where he was and I could even watch his progress towards the gate of our community. It doesn't take much to entertain me I admit.
I had put on a clean pair of socks and blouse to coordinate with my skirt and set out to walk to the gate to meet the driver. Everyone on my street wanted to know where I was going all dressed up in socks and a skirt so I felt very special.
When I arrived at the gate, the person that is usually in our little guard house was gone so no one was there to open the gate for me. I knew there had to be a secret button somewhere but could not spot it. Leaving is a lot harder than getting in I have discovered.
Once I escaped through the gate that an incoming car had just opened I waited by the curb. Sure enough, there he was. James, my driver. Life was good.
We set out for the clinic at a reasonable rate of speed and I was feeling pretty fine. Then I noticed that James had began texting. I looked out the window assessing if I could jump if things got out of control but that didn't seem to be a good idea. I hear that texting and driving is very dangerous. As I turned to look back the phone was gone and rap began playing quite loudly (for me) and again I looked out the window thinking about jumping when the music stopped...you guessed it...the phone reappeared.
|My own private Uber driver|
works in Portland...my son-in-law driving
As we approached the clinic, traffic picked up and there was a little zooming and weaving but I was bobbing and so I just went with the flow.
I didn't find any money for a tip in my purse. Like Miss Daisy, I get a little forgetful at times. That was when I told the young man that there would be no tip. He turned toward me and his beautiful college age face smiled at me. He said not to worry. It was just fine.
That was when I knew that I was in very good hands. James was a really nice guy. He didn't even blink when I told him that I even liked his "funky" music (no he didn't laugh at me) but he needed to keep in mind that most old people can be cranky about things like that.
His parting comment was, "Oh I know...I try to keep the cussing down too."
I admitted that that was a very good idea.
So, for all you city people that get to ride around in taxis and zoom from here to there, I want you to know that I am a little envious. That really was a lot of fun and a little exciting. I need more of that sort of thing in my life.
Have a wonderful day.