imagine you were good at something. like really good.
imagine you found out you were and someone who mattered said holy crap look at you.
then imagine you got to do it.
thats how i feel about uber and lyft.
i used to think that if i was a great guitar player id be the biggest dick.
id wear flashy clothes and adopt a british accent and surround myself with weirdos.
so when i couldnt barely play any chords i was happy.
because i would never want to be a dick to someone.
even when people are being mean to me i try to chill for a while
put myself in their shoes, think about it, look at all the angles.
when i was a kid i loved art. loved it. every semester of high school i took an art class.
one of the teachers showed us cubism one day and she said here picassos trying to show you all the sides at the same time. the front the back the left side the right side.
then in college i had a teacher showing us Tolstoy and she said here he is showing you the fight from the wife’s point of view, then the husbands, then the maids and then God’s
so i enjoy seeing all the sides and when i drive i try to think, if i was in the backseat of the Benz of the worlds greatest uber driver what would i want?
the answer usually starts with a clean car that smells fresh, not perfumed, but faintly of orange peels.
miles davis should be playing softly and the route should be quick and confident.
if the passengers wanna know some facts about the neighborhoods we are passing by, the driver should not only be able to tell you whats there
but what used to be there.
there should be water, mints, napkins, phone chargers, cup holders,
fucking wisdom for days.
the other day i got my first 3-star rating (out of 5) in over 500 trips. i couldn’t believe it.
because life isn’t fair i don’t know who gave it to me or why.
which is sad because im dying to know. not because i wanna fight. but because if there is some feedback that would truly make me the worlds greatest uber driver, i would love to know.
for example, perhaps they wanted mozart.