As I was researching this crazy rideshare gig, I found an oft-cited tidbit, that there are many middle class people who do this not for the money, but as a hobby.
Weird hobby, I always thought.
But I get it now.
Winter is the bane of my existence. Never knowing when the snow will come, accompanied by flurries of “things are heating up out there, surge, surge surge!” notifications that only serve to heighten the frustrations of my Prius-driving soul. Anything more than a light dusting of snow and my car is rendered virtually useless.
The money is nice. Not that it’s much, averaging $12-15 an hour before expenses (and significant risk) is not really equitable. But it works for me in ways most other jobs couldn’t. That said, if it was just the money I’d leave in a heartbeat.
It’s not the money, it’s the people.
Most rides are relatively mundane. But so many times in the average night, you get the chance to really connect with someone. Sometimes in ways you wish weren’t so fleeting. Sometimes you meet people you wish you could have met in some other context because it feels so incomplete to share so intimately and just let them wander off into the night. But that’s the job, that’s the script we all agree to, and I follow it. What else is there to do?
Laugh. Laugh at the absurdity of it all, smile at the memories, hold a good thought for the abundance of truly amazing people you’re privileged enough to meet on any given night.
Wait for that next ping, and pray for the snow to melt quickly.
