An Open Letter to the Uber Driver Who Talks Too Much
Dear Michael,
First of all, I’m sorry you saw me roll my eyes and throw my head back with a massive sigh of relief when I got out of the car at the airport. It was involuntary, and I would have waited until you’d driven off if I physically could have.
Let me first say: it’s not you, it’s me. I’m an introvert, which means that when I’m with my friends and family and coworkers– and friends of friends, and the checkout lady at literally any store–I talk a mile a minute. But when I’m in an Uber, if the driver says one word to me, I want to disappear into myself as if my belly button were a black hole.
Again, it’s not you. You seem like a stand-up guy. In any other circumstance, I would love to hear about the vertical farm in your garage or the myriad health benefits of home-grown mushrooms. But when I’m belted into the seat behind you, trying to avoid eye contact in the rearview mirror while also having to look straight ahead to stave off car sickness because it’s 86 degrees inside, I’m not in a chatty mood.
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I will also apologize for my tone when I said “that’s crazy” for the third, fourth and fifth time during your story about your ex-girlfriend wanting to share custody of your dog. As a dog owner, I feel for the stress that situation must cause you. As a person, I wanted you to shut up.
In all fairness, I should also come clean: when I put in my headphones in the middle of your sentence and said “sorry, it’s the office,” it was not the office. I said a few words into my homescreen and then listened to a podcast I’d already heard.
As you will see, I did leave you a five star review. The only way I leave anything less is if there is an active attempt on my life. While I was, at times, concerned about being bored to death by your lengthy explanation of the smell in your vehicle, I did not take it as an open act of aggression. However, as precedent was set in the early days of Uber, I did not leave a tip.
Listen, I just wanted to be open and honest about all of the above and tell you I am sorry for being rude — and that if some bit of serendipity finds me in your back seat again, please don’t talk to me.
With regards,
Lucas
