I often provide rides to folks who want to enjoy a first-class dinner at a fine restaurant. They don’t want to worry about the drive home, but rather take in the experience with friends.
Lately, I’ve transported a substantial number of fast-food workers who just need a ride to work and back. Some are on their first job. Some will never have a better job. Others tell me about how hard they work, and we converse about their desire to use the job as a starting place. I love their work ethic!
However, one of my most memorable riders directed my services to a different restaurant experience. Katie’s Uber directions led me to a more ‘eclectic’ part of Pensacola. It would be a round trip.
“I’ve eaten here a few times,” she said, “This place has the best hamburgers I’ve ever eaten. I know it’s kinda far away, but it’s my favorite.”
I was not prepared for the destination – a burglar-barred gas station with a ramshackled food truck attached. The owners had a tarp attached to provide shade over a couple of picnic tables.
“I’ll be right back. I’ve pre-ordered my food.”
“I’ve learned to appreciate some things in life that others might overlook. Simple things.”
After I told her that I had written a book, she opened up.
“I need to write a book of my own,” she said. “I’ve been through a lot. I’ve had some tough family challenges. Most of them revolved around my son. He was a football player in high school.”
“He started having some difficulty and often became winded. Eventually, the doctors discovered a brain tumor that had settled on his speech organs, among other places. He knew he was dying a few months before he was gone. I lost him shortly after he turned fifteen.”
She described a somewhat dysfunctional relationship with her family, which just added to the heartache.
“That’s why I want to write my own book. I can help other people go through the pain of losing their child. I know what I needed to help me!”
I don’t know how she ever found the gas station hamburger place, but I’m glad it was far enough away that we had time to talk. I hope she writes her book, even if no one else ever reads it.
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Then, you have others who can adapt to sudden changes. I picked up a mother and daughter at the Pensacola Airport this afternoon. Destination? Mobile Regional Airport, a little over seventy-five miles away.
The Dallas/Ft. Worth Airport had experienced a blackout a few days prior, which had disrupted flight schedules nationwide.
The mom explained, “We were trying to go to Seattle, but the airlines had canceled almost every flight there. We were trying to go to my aunt’s birthday party, but there was no way to get there.”
“We saw that we could get a flight to Pensacola, so we took that. Then, we found an Airbnb in Destin. After spending a couple of days there, we attempted to book a flight back to Dallas from either the Ft. Walton/Destin airport or the Panama City airport. No luck.”
“Next, we got on standby in the Pensacola Airport, but there was only one seat and we were numbers six and seven. So, we were able to secure seats from Mobile to Dallas. My husband is home with our three other kids, so we turned this into a little vacation.”
You gotta admire the resiliency and willingness to adapt!
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Finally, another ride at the P’Cola Airport provided an example of rigid, uncompromising adherence to the rule!
Uber beckoned! I drove toward the designated pickup area for my next passenger. The logistics folks there have specific, assigned meeting areas for Ride-Share, buses, taxis, etc.
My rider was nowhere near the Ride-Share area. Unknowingly, he had wandered up toward the taxi area. So, I slowly moved toward him. I opened my door and explained that he was supposed to be in the designated pickup spot.
Suddenly, “Barney Fife” came running toward us.
“He’s right! You’re in the wrong place! You’re supposed to be back there!”
I smiled and told the parking deputy that my passenger would get it right next time—just a bit of confusion. At this point, the passenger was within a foot of my car.
“This is not your fault!” he told the passenger. “This guy is an Uber driver, and he should know better. He’ll have to drive back around and pick you up in the right place.”
I tried once more. “Well, he’s right here now.”
“If you let him into your car here, I’ll give you a ticket and you’ll be permanently banned from the airport.”
I made the loop and met my rider in the appropriate area.
“Gee,” he said, “That guy must have been a spoonful short of self-importance in his morning cereal!”
We laughed it off and shared the feeling that this man was an offspring of that soup guy on Seinfeld.
God Bless!
Tommy
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