The Nicer Passengers - My life as an Uber driver #3

It was a Saturday morning a couple of weeks back, and I noticed there was a “surge” underway where the demand for rides was greater than the number of drivers.  Driving during surge periods is really the only way you can make much money, since driving during regular times pays very little. However, I don’t drive much during surge hours, mostly because normally surge hours tend to come late at night, and I have no desire to service the bar crowd.

This Saturday morning there was a lot going on in town, including the Indian Wells Tennis tournament, so when I turned on the Uber driver app, I saw the entire region was in red.  I told Kurt I was leaving early “to make us some big bucks.” And by the time I got to the car, the first “ding” came through.  A pick-up at the Ritz-Carlton.  The Ritz-Carlton is a cool place.  Like other higher end hotels in town, the clientele tends to be more friendly, and the concierges outside treat me well.  The Parker, the Riviera, and The Arrive are also favorites in Palm Springs because of their ease to work with.

This Saturday morning, I was summoned by a traveling salesman who needed a ride to the airport to head back to Chicago.  Nice guy.  I’m not sure, but I think his name was Del and he was selling shower curtain rings or something like that (on second thought if it was Del from Chicago selling shower curtain rings, he would have been at the Braidwood Inn, not the Ritz-Carlton).  No tip, but he gave me five stars, and as soon as I cleared the airport, I got my next “ding.”  This time at the JW Marriott Resort in Rancho Mirage.

The JW Marriott is also a great hotel for an Uber driver.  It is a very impressive resort, and the guests there tend to be higher class. There is a grand entrance with easy access and the guests are usually waiting out in front. As I pull up to the front of the complex, I see a group of four very stylish young people, two men, two women.  One of the women looks up from her phone where she has been tracking my progress, sees that I have arrived, grabs her pals and comes to the car as the concierge opens the door for them. 

This good looking blond sits in the passenger seat, while the equally attractive brunette and two very handsome guys get in the back.  They are friendly and chatty and on their way to the tennis tournament.  As I pull out of the resort, I ask where they are from.  All are from L.A. and in town just for the tennis tournament.  Now, I’ve learned that when there are three or more passengers, they tend to want to talk amongst themselves.  So I keep my mouth shut … and in this case, I get ready to be entertained for the 20 minute ride to the tennis gardens.

It soon becomes apparent that they are Hollywood types. The guy sitting behind me (who I can’t see) had just been on the Ellen show and had signed a new deal for a Fox show.  One of the other passengers talked about that show called New Girl (I had never heard of it, but again, I kept my mouth shut).  I figured I had celebs in the car, but no idea who they were.  They talked about different people in Hollywood (by first name only) and amused themselves (and me) by telling hilarious stories involving misadventures while going around LA … restaurants, shopping, in the studio (who’s boinking who, who did what to who, and who embarrassed themselves while out in public) … funny stuff, especially the way they were so engaged in reliving the stories.

What surprised me was how open they were, and at the same time, how disconnected they seemed from the functioning of TV and Hollywood, even though they knew a lot about the players.  At one point, the guy behind said he didn’t know what time his show would air on Fox.  He wondered if it would be at 10:00PM.  One of the others said they didn’t think so, because Fox stations might do news at 10:00.  One of the others asked, “Well when is their scripted programming then, 7:00 to 10:00?”  When no one knew, I told them Fox network programs only 8:00 to 10:00 PM, and goes local at 10:00.  Not really insider stuff, but certainly something you’d think they would know being in the biz.  Their response when I told them, “Oh cool, that makes sense then.  Thanks.”

As we approached the tennis gardens, I told them that I had to drop them off at the Uber spot, not right in front of the main gate.  They all said no problem.  The girl sitting next to me said, “You’re a fun Uber driver.”  They made me happy.

As I pulled over, and they started getting out of the car, I thanked them and said, “You guys are the most entertaining people I’ve ever given a ride to.  It’s like I had a Seinfeld episode unfold in my car during the last twenty minutes.”  They all laughed, said thanks again, and were on their way.  A few moments later, my Uber rating increased again to 4.85 as they gave me the full five stars (it had gone down significantly after Princess Taye).

After I got home that night, I started chatting with a Hollywood friend of mine, and told him what had happened.  He did some research and putting together the pieces of the puzzle, determined that it was likely Max Greenfield who I gave a ride to.  When I looked at his photo online, I determined that yeah, it probably was him, though he was wearing a cap and sunglasses. And when I saw the photos of his wife, Tess Sanchez, she sure looked like the one in the back seat with him.  If it was Max Greenfield, and if by chance he ever reads my blog (yeah right), just know that you guys were some of the nicest passengers I’ve ever had in my car while

Ubering. You made my day (without even knowing who you were at the time). People like you make me want to continue to drive (because God knows, it is not for the money).

This is the ANA Golf Tournament weekend here in the desert.  It's the old Dinah Shore/Nabisco classic.  Uber has already informed us drivers that we'll need to be out on the road early and late in the day to service the tournament.  Who knows what celebs might show up this time.  I can only hope it is Max Greenfield and his pals again, because those types of rides don't come along often enough.

Princess Taye - My life as an Uber driver #2

It was 4:00 on Saturday afternoon.  I had been back and forth to the tennis tournament in Indian Wells several times and I was ready to log off and head back home to Palm Springs, 40 minutes away because we had dinner plans that night.  But, I kept the Uber app open hoping I would “catch” someone heading back to the center of civility in the desert (Palm Springs), away from the burbs that sprout the Westfield Mall, Outback, Red Lobster, and …. The tennis garden.  The Uber app pings.  I have a rider 9 minutes away in Rancho Mirage on my way back home.  The name is “Taye.” And I am unaware I am about to meet royalty.  I will call her “Princess Taye.” And, yes, she thought she was truly worthy of the regal treatment!

I follow the map Uber has provided me to the Princess’ home and nine minutes later, the problems begin.  The app takes me to a gate at a private community that is only accessible if you are a resident.  The sign says visitors can only enter the gated complex at Bob Hope Drive entrance, which is another two miles away.  You back up, you get back on the road, and you now search on your own without the help of the GPS to find the Bob Hope Drive entrance.  Eventually, I got there where I was met by Mac, the security guard, who apparently had regularly dined on his namesake “Big Mac” through much of his life.  The man was immense (that is being kind).

Me:  “Hi Mac, I’m Dan, an Uber driver and I am here to pick up Taye at 23 Nice Lane.”

Mac:  “Your name is not on the list.”

Me:  “OK. Well, could you call Taye because Taye (not sure at this point if Taye is a he or she) is waiting for me.”

Mac: “Hold on.” Mac then moves his large frame into the guard shack and emerges a few moments later.  “Ain’t no answer at 23 Nice Lane.”

Me (thinking, ummm):  “OK, well, I can try calling Taye on the Uber app on my phone (if it works) and Taye can let you know that (he/she) is expecting me.”

Mac: “Well, OK.”

As cars stack up behind me waiting to get in, I press the button on the app that sometimes connects you with the rider.  The Uber app for drivers really sucks.  After six rings, Taye does finally answer (and, for the first time, I realize Taye is a she, not a he). 

Taye:  “Yes????”

Me: “Hi Taye, this is Dan, your Uber driver.  I am at the gate but the guard won’t let me in.” 

Taye:  (deep distressed moan) “Let me talk to him!”

Me: “Hey Mac, she wants to talk with you.”

I’m on a speaker phone so I can hear the whole thing.

Mac:  “You want the Uber driver to come to your home?”

Taye:  (in a bitchy tone) “Yes, of course I do, I wouldn’t have called for a ride if I didn’t want it. Would I?”

Mac: “OK, what’s your security code?”

Taye: “What?????”

Mac:  “Your security code.  You know I can’t let anyone in without getting your security code.”

Taye: “Ah Jeez, hang on.”

As cars are backing up onto Bob Hope Drive, I ask Mac to yield to common sense and allow me in to pick up Princess Taye.  No good. No one is getting past rent-a-cop Mac, including me or the growing line of frustrated “legitimate” visitors stacked up behind me.

It seems an eternity, but it was probably only three minutes when Taye comes back, spews off a line of numbers, and Big Mac tells me I’m good to go.  I could almost hear the collecting sigh of relief from the drivers behind me.

Here’s the deal, time and mileage are money.  I’ve just driven eight miles to get to the Princess’ home then wasted another seven or eight minutes to get inside the damned gated community that the Princess did not tell me was accessible only on Bob Hope Drive and also did not tell Mac I was coming.  Calm down, Dan, she probably wants to go for a long ride where the fare will be amazing. 

So, I wind through the complex with lakes and pools and ponds and ducks and tennis courts and a few minutes later I pull up in front of Princess Taye’s modest looking tract home in her gated community.  She knows I am there obviously, from the phone call and I can see on my app that she is looking at me (kind of ).  But no Taye.

After a couple more minutes, I get out of the car and as I do the front door opens and here she comes.  Dressed head to toe in black (on a 92 degree day), on the cell phone, fumbling to lock the front  door, then gets into the back seat after I open the door for her still yammering away on the Princess phone.  I go to the driver’s seat and she has not entered the destination on the app so I have no idea where we are going.  

Two minutes later, the Princess finally ends her very heated conversation on the phone at which time I say, “Good afternoon, Taye, where are we off to today?

Taye:  “Wellllllllllll, I was going to the tennis tournament, but I’m not going now, so I don’t need you.”

Me, thinking, you damned bitch, but keeping my cool:  “Well, I just drove eight miles to pick you up and ….” And just then her phone rings.

Taye (on the phone):  “What?  What do you want?  I already told you.  No!  Not now!  F*&k you!  I’m going there whether you like it or not.”

Me thinking “Oh my, why don’t I have a camera rolling for this type of crap?”

Taye (to me after slamming the phone in her lap):  “Take me to the tennis tournament and get me there in ten minutes.”

So much for heading back to Palm Springs.

Me: “Uh, you know, I really can’t do that in ten minutes.  Without traffic it’s 15 minutes and with traffic it’s longer.”

Taye:  “Just go.”

So I turn around, head out, ask her if she’d like some music.

Taye:  “No.”

Except for her frantic tapping on the phone texting, it is total silence until we get to the tennis tournament, 20 minutes away, at which time she says “Where are you going?”

Me: “The Uber drop off point” for the tournament, which is a half block away from the stadium.  Uber drivers are only allowed to drop of passengers at a specific spot, and it is STRICTLY enforced.

Taye:  “Oh, no you don’t.  That’s too far for me.  You’re taking me to the VIP drop off point at the front of stadium 1.”

Me: “Sorry, I can’t do that because I am not allowed in there without special passes.”

Taye: “Well, I have the pass, go there now.”

So, I took the “Uber” sticker off my windshield as I pulled in the VIP drop off point just before I was confronted by a security guard who asked where my VIP pass was.  To which I said, “She has it,” pointing to the Princess in the back seat. At which point, she says, “Oh, I forgot it.” She opens the door, bolts from the car and that’s the last I saw of that bitch.

The security guy was cool.  He just laughed and let me go on my way.  I gave Taye a three star rating which is pretty bad for a rider.  After she left, I saw my rating as a driver drop, meaning she gave me less than five stars, threatening my ability to drive in the future.  But hey, I made $8.23.  Thank you, Princess Taye.  Your karma will catch up with you. 

My next and final ride for the day was a group of nice people from Virginia attending the tennis tournament and heading back to their rental home in Palm Springs.  It got me closer to home, they gave me five stars, but it will take several more five star ratings to erase the negative impact of Princess Taye.  Good times!

Praise Mohammad - My life as an Uber driver #1

I want to give thanks to Mohammad.  It’s probably not quite you what think.  No, I am not a Muslim convert. Mohammad is the name of an Uber driver that I met a couple of months ago in San Diego.  While Mohammad did get me from Point A to Point B, he did so in a dirty car, wearing dirty clothes, with a foul attitude.  It’s the only time I’ve given an Uber driver less than 5 stars (and as I will explain in a subsequent blog, if a driver gets anything less than five stars, his future as an Uber driver is in doubt).

But Mohammad got me thinking.  If a slouch like Mohammad can be an Uber driver, why can’t a nice guy like me who showers at least once a day and knows how to find a car wash be an Uber driver too?  Though I’ve been retired for eight years and am not the least bit bored, I’ve always enjoyed talking with people and hearing their stories.  Plus, I know the Palm Springs area really well.  Meeting interesting people while providing a service would be a fun thing, right?  Kind of like being a TV news reporter except you’re not dealing deadlines and consultants who always knew how to do your job, even though they never mastered theirs.

So, I Googled “How to become an Uber driver,” and several weeks later, here I am with my Uber decal, my clean car, and my true desire to be the best Uber driver ever (apparently, I’m not, but more on that later, too). 

The sign up process is all online and fairly simple.  You email your driver’s license, proof of insurance, car registration.  You tell them you’re not a criminal and OK Uber doing a background check (which apparently is not comprehensive enough for some cities which now want Uber drivers to be fingerprinted).  Your car must be 2006 or newer, have four door and seat at least four passengers.  And you must take your car to a participating nearby mechanic who for $22 will give you an Uber certificate authenticating the road worthiness of your vehicle.  That took five minutes.

Then, “ding,” a message pops up on your phone (after you install the Uber driver app) which congratulates you for being an official Uber driver …. now get out there and start picking up people.  And that’s what I have been doing about three days a week for the past three weeks.

Do you get rich?  No, not even close.  Do you get frustrated?  At times, yes, because some people can be real jerks.  Is it fun?  Yes, because there are a lot more nice people than there are jerks. 

Nice people story #1:  Melinda, in her 50’s, in town for a tech convention, needed a ride Thursday afternoon to FedEx to pick up printed material that wasn’t ready before she came to Palm Springs from Virginia.  First time here, she loves it, loves Uber, and wanted to know all about Palm Springs during our 15 minute ride.  So impressed, she tipped five bucks.  Awesome!  The next day, I got Melinda again (along with a co-worker).  Melinda said it was her lucky day because she got me again (it’s all random, you never know what driver/passenger you’ll end up with), told me I was the best Uber driver she ever had, and gave me another five bucks as I dropped her off at her swanky hotel.  Five stars for Melinda.  Melinda was the exception.  Why aren’t there more Melindas? 

That’s it for now.  Time to go online with Uber and search for more Melindas.  Unfortunately, I’ll probably get a Taye.  Her story next time. Oh, and thanks, Mohammad … I think.