Rideshare Woes | The Menories Journal

When a rideshare goes bad.

            Before I moved to the bay area, I had been aware of rideshares such as Uber and Lyft, the latter being still relatively new. I remember once in high school when Uber had first launched, my dad once mentioned it to me one early morning before I left for class as an idea for a job, aware of my love of driving. However, I loved driving by myself and usually to no certain destination with music blaring from the old, somewhat static-y sounding speakers. Regardless, living in a small town and the newness of the apps, there weren’t really any opportunities for driving unless doing a late-night bar shift, which at 16/17 was not ideal, or for being a passenger.

            So, at 19, newly living in Berkeley and working (more so playing) in San Francisco more often than in Berkeley, I had to utilize the Bay Area Rapid Transit, or BART, and rideshares such as Uber and Lyft as modes of transportation. While I had had a car back home, and was offered one of my grandparent’s parking spots, I decided to sell it and not have to deal with city driving and parking. This left me doing lots of walking to and from the BART stations which then led to laziness and the easy availability of rideshares around the clock.

            I reminded myself that these were not taxis, but people’s personal cars and their time; therefore, I developed what I thought were ways to show my gratitude in a friendly and sociable manner. I would sit in the front seat, regardless of the hour (I thought it reminded the drivers that they were not a taxi) and try my hardest to make conversation. In hindsight, naivety was getting the best of me.  

It happened on the first night that I utilized one of the apps after the sun had set. I had just clocked out of work, ready to go home and lay in bed, letting the stress of the day melt off as some crime show glowed on my laptop. I waited on the curb with some friends, making loose plans for drinks after the next shift we all worked together as we all waited for our cars. Slowly each of their rides pulled up to the curb, all of us hugging as we said goodbye. A few minutes had passed when I found myself standing alone, waiting for a car that the app claimed was still minutes away. The assistant manager, who was a man that I already found myself not wanting to be alone with, came to wait with me once he saw that I was now standing by myself. We made some general small talk about how the day had went and he praised me for me work, there was a lull in the conversation when he spouted that he was waiting for his fiancé. I smiled and said okay as my phone notified me that my car had arrived, but it had not arrived on the curbside where I was.

I found myself walking to the back of the store, an alleyway. I didn’t mind walking to the car and I was still trying to maintain being friendly, not making a scene of it, plus for some reason it was a mistake that drivers often made, even in the day. The car had driven further down the alley than most other drivers I had seen before, but I thought nothing of it and approached the passenger door. Greeting the driver as I opened the door, situated myself and buckled into the front seat. The driver turned off the music and said a soft hello, to which I smiled. The driver was an older man, he resembled one of my grandfather’s friends and had stickers all over the dash of his car. In silence, he began the drive.

The drive home should have been about twenty minutes on average and save a few one-way city streets, was supposed to be a straight shot to the freeway; this drive was not that. We drove in silence for a few minutes as I tried to untangle my bag from my feet, the driver chuckled as he watched out of the side of his eye. I smiled and turned my attention to him, asking how his day was. As we approached a stop sign, he turned his head to look at me fully.

I, having had just worked a nine hour, hectic retail day, was not looking good. The store I worked in always kept the temperature up, which left me usually with my hair up in a ridiculously high pony tail and make-up smudged or completely off, leaving my face red. The uniform, which did not aide in cooling one down, was a matching polyester top and bottom, a dark navy blue to fully catch the heat. I learned the hard way that one was not to break the uniform code as I desperately wanted to switch sneakers, as the pair they required permanently bent one of my pinkie toes and held no traction, causing me to fall/slip/slide a ridiculous amount, so much so that a coworker I was crushing on once joked that for every day I didn’t fall, he would buy my lunch. He was a man to his word and never bought me lunch.

The driver, now taking a turn that I was unfamiliar with, claimed that we had to pick up another passenger. As it was close to midnight, and I was still new to the city, I didn’t utilize the full rideshare app in having another passenger join the ride, I thought I had selected a solo ride in order to get home the fastest. I figured that maybe when I was calling the ride as I was multitasking gathering my things and clocking out, I had accidentally switched to the multi-passenger option. The driver told me about his day picking up other customers as he took more twists and turn that took us deeper into the city, an area where I had not mapped out in my head yet and unable to place where I was. We began to climb a steep hill with little lighting when he looked at me, eyes off the road as he drove.

“You’re really tall, huh?” He questioned as his eyes glazed over my body, lingering on my outstretched legs. I was somewhat used to this, my height being the number one thing that people commented on, many using it as some sort of pick-up line.

“Yeah, I’m 5’10 and ¾ but I usually lie and say I’m 5’11. I wish I was taller.” I joked, this was something that I had conditioned myself to say when someone asked something regarding how tall I was.

“You are really beautiful. Your boyfriend must be really tall.” He continued to drive deeper into the dark side of the city.

“I don’t have a boyfriend.” I said a bit more softly, aware that this was not the direction that I wanted the conversation to go in. As the driver took a sharp turn, he placed his hand on my thigh.

“You are too pretty not to have a boyfriend.” He spoke slowly as he squeezed the middle of my thigh. I could feel my heart beat begin to quicken in my chest. I checked my phone to look at the time, ten till midnight. I should have been crossing the Bay Bridge and been minutes from being alone in my bed, but instead I was passenger in a car with an old man squeezing my thigh.

I looked out the front window as I spoke, “I’m really busy with work and school. I’m not worried about a boyfriend right now. Thank you though.”

“Oh, smart and beautiful. You’re a real prize, aren’t you?” He replied without missing a beat. His hand, starting to slowly move higher up my thigh.

I turned to him and took his hand off of my leg, somewhat throwing it back into his lap. “Are we picking someone else up? I have people waiting for me at home and they are going to be worried if I’m not there soon.” He looked at me, then at his phone. “They are the type of people to call the police if I’m not home by a certain time and they have my location.” I continued and held up my phone, trying to share that I had allowed my grandparents to temporarily track me.

He huffed and took an illegal u-turn before replying, “Looks like the other person cancelled.” He turned on the radio, allowing whatever pop song to loudly pour out of the speakers, and quickly got us onto a well-lit and more familiar road. The rest of the ride home was done in silence.

 After that I was done sitting in the front seat of rideshares especially at night and began to limit my small talk. When I got home, my grandparents mentioned the time and I responded that we had worked late which was only half a lie. As I settled into bed that night, I texted a friend about what had happened. She shared that she sat only in the backseat and always with her headphones in, but she was sorry and I was lucky I got home safely. Years later I would share the story with a coworker at a different job, to which she replied that she once, in a drunken state, had fallen asleep in a rideshare and the driver did not wake her, but took her back to his house where she woke up on his couch. She assured me that she felt as if nothing had happened, but I apologized and considered myself lucky that my ride had turned out the way it did.

Reviews

[JE Falcon]

A good story and a better warning to all who think this sort of transportation is a good idea. This was well written and relatable, I'm sure.

[shadrach hah]

Hi Haley, another harassing memory you lay before us. It makes one so angry that women can not be left alone, even in a rideshare. What is wrong with some men, they think you are there for their pleasure alone. The more they go on, the more they give the rest of us a bad name. Another write that has me hooked from beginning to end. You have such a skilful way in writing these memories. You hold the attention with such ease. I love the content of your journal entries. Have a wonderful Monday. Hugs always....Mike.

[Haley]

Hi, first of all, thank you so much for reading, it's greatly appreciated! And secondly, I agree, but you have to remind oneself that not every person is the same and you just have to try to have faith in yourself that you'll be able to figure a way out of any situation or at least away from the person who is harassing. I wish I could say this would be the last of these kinds of stories, but alas, I have many more! Thank you again for your kind words!

[shadrach hah]

You are welcome, Haley. It is sad that these things happen. Have a wonderful Monday. Hugs always....Mike.

[lessa (kenzie)]

Enjoyed this, like the detail and imagery. Nicely written

[Haley]

Thank you so much for reading!

[Dylan Macadham]

Accustomed to reading poets, I at first blinked at your short story's length (which, of course, for a short story, is actually short :), but in Rideshare Woes you hooked me from the start, suspensefully pulled me through in poem-time, and left me having so-enjoyed it. You strike me as talented and skillful in your chosen form, and I certainly intend to read more :)

[Haley]

Hi, thank you so much for reading and be willing to take the jump from poetry to short stories! I appreciate your kind words.