I have a confession to make. I haven’t driven for Uber since April of this year. Between then and now, I spent time commuting from my job in Mobile to my new residence in Gulf Breeze, Florida. My drive was about three hours a day, which didn’t leave me any time or desire to ride-share.
I missed it.
So, last week, I started again. Now, I remember what intrigued me so much about these rides. As always, it’s the people! I had eleven rides last week. These are some of the stories from my passengers.
One rider is an active policeman from the West Side of Chicago. He commutes every few weeks as he approaches retirement. In a couple of months, he’ll require arm surgery, which will require him to use his remaining time for rehabilitation.
His wife has already relocated to this area. She is a former Chicago police officer herself. She now teaches in one of the local high schools. My rider says she works at a facility known for disciplinary challenges. He proudly says, “She has no problem handling any disruptions. Spend one day in the west side of Chicago, and you will understand real disruptions!”
Together, they’ve been refurbishing their home and look forward to spending time on the boat he has rehabbed.
I picked up another gentleman who needed assistance to get in my car. He’s legally blind and has recovered from a stroke and previous heart surgery. His former girlfriend had helped him set up an appointment and a ride to an eye doctor.
“I assumed it would be too complicated and time-consuming to arrange, so I put it off way too long,” he said. “My ‘ex’ lives in Denver, but she still cares enough about me to help. We get along better with the time and distance between us!”
Next was a Miami businessman named Albert. He is the heir apparent in his family business. I love talking to people in family businesses. I’ve had a ton of experience making big mistakes in that arena. We had a great discussion, but I don’t think he believes his business will have any problems as it transitions to the next generation.
By the way, he works with two brothers-in-law. They do not have any formal, written plan for the next generation. I gave him a copy of my book, “An Act of Congress – The Real-Life Story of Power and Politics in Family Business.” He can read my book or write his own when he realizes the consequences of unwritten plans and expectations.
Soon after I dropped off Albert, I got a ding to pick up Albert. As soon as I saw him, I knew it wasn’t the same guy. Back-to-back Alberts is unusual.
My rider had long dreadlocks and gold teeth. Let’s say he was dressed very casually.
“A lot of people mistake my appearance as a thug. I understand why.” He said.
“Here’s a perfect example. I was mowing the grass at a local church a couple of weeks ago. A passing motorist stopped and asked if I wanted something to eat or drink. He said I was working so hard. I told him I was fine. He offered money. I took it and gave it to a homeless person.”
“He didn’t realize that I was mowing the grass as a charitable act for the church. He learned his mistake when we met at a financial management training session a week later. Everything isn’t always what it seems.
Indeed!
Later, Uber summoned me to downtown Pensacola to pick up a young man. He’s a very friendly guy. I think he said he was from New York State.
“What are you doing down here?” I asked.
“I play hockey for the Pensacola Ice Flyers. I love it here. Our team stays in apartments right across the street from the Gulf. It’s one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever lived!”
“However, I just got traded to the Macon Mayhem in Georgia yesterday. Macon is playing Pensacola here tomorrow. I’ve got to be careful not to pass the puck to my former teammates accidentally.”
“I called my Dad,” he continued. “I told him they traded me for $1.”
His father advised him to play as long as he could. “Once you age out, you can never go back!”
The next day, I picked up a couple from one of the neighboring towns. The man hoped to move to a quiet, small Baldwin County, Alabama town.
He says, “I’ve stayed there several times, and it’s one of the few places where people don’t treat me like a freak. After I served my time in prison, that’s something I’ve not had much luck locating.”
Oh, I didn’t mention that he had massive facial tattoos, some resembling a skull. I hope he and his girlfriend find peace somewhere.
Finally, I picked up an older lady who was suffering as she approached my car. After I helped her into my car, she told me to wait for a man who would ride with us. I assumed the gentleman who sat next to her was her son.
She is moaning and softly crying. She’s obviously in a lot of pain.
Her son explains, “The doctors repeatedly misdiagnosed her with anemia or anorexia. Eventually, someone realized she had cancer. Because it took them so long to diagnose her properly, the cancer has spread to her uterus, her bones, and several other organs. We’re on the way to radiation treatments.”
She hears a song on the radio from the 70s and begins singing it. She says that the music from that time made her happy. She will receive chemotherapy if the radiation doesn’t work. I offer to pray for them.
So, I’m back to driving. I won’t say I don’t need the money. I will say that I need the people, and I’m fascinated by their stories.
God Bless,
Tommy