4. GO

Why not give Uber a try?

I couldn’t shake the idea. Branislav’s words lingered. It took a few days after Vegas before I finally built up the nerve. I had a job, a reputation, me, Mr. Entrepreneur Vice President. But my bank account was louder than my pride.

Let’s face it, having someone in your car is an odd concept. Most of us Americans drive solo, our car a private mess, us alone, belting off-key tunes, farting, picking our noses. The passenger seat gets cleared for the occasional family member or, even rarer, a friend. I’d argue your car is one of your most private spaces, second only to your bedroom or bathroom. It’s weird—we’re visible to the world, yet we feel a sense of privacy unlike, say, a bus or a sidewalk.

Still, I had to try.

So, on Friday, February 21st, 2020, at 7 p.m., while cruising down 690 after work, I grabbed my phone and tapped GO.

Bling! Bling! Bling!

My screen exploded with lights and sounds, like a scene from Mission Impossible. The Uber app demanded my attention, flashing a countdown timer: Do you accept?

What most people don’t realize is that Uber drivers have seconds to accept or reject a ride. And these requests always come at the worst possible moments—when you’re flying down the highway, making a left turn across traffic, or driving at night in the rain. It’s a system designed to overwhelm you.

Bling! Bling! Bling!

There was some trip info—an address, miles, time—but how the hell could I read it while driving?

Bling! Bling! Bling!

I’m literally trying not to crash! My heart pounded. I had no idea what the trip was, but I thought, Why not? and pressed ACCEPT—clueless to what was about to happen. The Uber app morphed into a GPS map. A blue line appeared, guiding me to the pickup location.

Exit in 500 feet, Uber commanded. But one problem. I was stuck in the left lane at 65 mph.

The exit whizzed past, my blinker on, my hand shaking a fist at the stubborn Honda that wouldn’t let me merge. Didn’t they understand I was on an Uber mission?

Fuck you, Honda!

Now I had to drive miles past the exit to turn around, adding ten minutes to my first-ever pickup.

Are you coming?

The passenger texted me, probably watching my arrival time triple. I was embarrassed, rushed, confused, and completely ignorant of how this whole thing worked. I was speeding, navigating, learning the Uber app, ignoring my screaming anxiety—all at once.

On my way!

I had no idea where I was going.

The app had an address at the top of the screen, but it wasn’t familiar. I kept blindly following the blue line, hoping for the best. After endless red lights on Erie Boulevard, I finally approached the pickup location. I squinted. Asian Market and the name Miyomi blinked on the app.

As I eased into the parking lot, several grocery-laden Asian college students stood near the curb, scanning their phones. I circled and stopped near the group. And for my next rookie mistake, I left the car door locked. I fumbled with my phone. Click. Thud.

The door unlocked and the trunk popped open. They loaded their own groceries, another mistake. A frigid breeze swept in as Miyomi settled into the front seat, two others in the back.

Hi. Are you Miyomi?

Yes.

Students?

Yes.

How do you guys like Syracuse?

I was hoping to bring the rest of the car into the conversation.

We like it but they don’t speak any English.

I glanced in the rearview mirror. The two in the back hadn’t looked up once, faces glowing from their phone screens. Korean? Chinese? I wasn’t sure.

I retrieved my phone from the floor, tapped START, and the familiar blue line reappeared, guiding us back to Syracuse University.

What are you studying?

Media and communication.

Syracuse is a great school. Where are you from?

Korea. They’re from China.

Another glance in the mirror. Still locked into their phones. The ride was only five minutes, just a quick trip up the hill to campus. We arrived before the conversation had a chance to take off. But looking back I don’t think she wanted to talk anyway. It was just that odd thing, where she sat in the front seat and I felt the awkward desire to chat. Fourth rookie mistake.

Is this the right place?

Here is fine. Have a good night.

They exited. Retrieved their groceries. Thud. Thud. Thud.

And just like that, my first Uber ride was done.