Olivia
My last pickup of the day the other day was for someone named Olivia. It said to pick her up at Sonic by the mall. Ok cool. Off I went. New Message from Uber-Rider has updated their location- new location, Sonic by the mall. Umm... that’s what it already said. Whatever. The app is glitchy sometimes, though it always gets me there eventually. Then I get a message asking me if she has to meet me where I am (four miles away). Umm... no, honey, I am on my way I just had to make a u-turn to head in your direction. I figured she was new to the app. So we chat a bit via the app at red lights and make light of the question and the quirks of Ubering and I have her LOL’ing already so I know it is going to be a fun trip. She casually mentions Wendy’s. So I ask her where she is and she confirms that it was indeed Wendy’s (which in fairness is next to Sonic). I get there and she is nowhere to be found. I wait until just before Uber starts charging for wait time and I message her. She thought she’d had time to run to the pharmacy and was almost back. I immediately started the ride on the app so that it wouldn’t charge her. I know what it is like without a car (and I know what fast food pays... and it isn’t “charge me by the minute” money). Finally she shows up and gets in and I instantly liked her. And not just because she dropped the F bomb in her very first sentence (talking about the heat). We chatted up a storm all the way to her drop-off location. We talked about struggling and how hard and just absolutely defeating life gets and how you have to treat everyone well because everyone else is struggling too. We talked about how Wendy’s is still paying her less than $9 an hour while new hires are making $11. We talked about kindness and empathy and the increased importance of both as the pandemic starts to wear on us all and we did it all while listening to Lizzo, so it was definitely a memorable ride (and a welcome change from my usual rider-friendly fare). It was a sharp contrast to my next passenger, who couldn’t stop talking about his private plane and backyard racetrack as I took him back home because he had driven a boat from his home to his friend’s. But I digress. Olivia was easily the nicest and coolest passenger I have had yet. She even told me if I show up at Wendy’s during her shift that she’s got me covered. I got her work times and those of her boyfriend and told her I would try my best to be in the area during those times. I also told her that if Uber said I was her driver, I had better not find out she walked to the pharmacy when I could drive her there.
Finally, we turned onto her road and it was somewhere I’ve never been. It was maybe two turns off the main road, yet it was like driving into a completely different world. Five structures, spaced fairly close together, made of grey, drab cinderblock were all that laid before me. No cars, no signs of people, just these buildings. A single red ball laid beside the road, the only color on the street, which was devoid even of grass in most spots. From the back seat I feel a tap on my shoulder and she is giving me a five-dollar bill. I know she needs it more than I do in this moment, but I also know from our conversation that it matters to her that she gives back where she can, so I take it. And I was genuinely grateful for it. And the next ride, when Mr. Private Plane tipped me $25 (which was very kind), I realized that the value of money is indeed subjective. Not just because we attribute value to goods and services arbitrarily, but because there was no doubt in my mind that the $5 I received from Olivia was worth far more than the $25 from Captain Racecar.