rideshare odyssey

radiation safety technician at a university hospital

sort of a nuclear Dirty Harry; doing the jobs no one else would do

Last task before my covid layoff:

Remove five bags of radioactive waste from the emergency room

My new mundane quest:

Safely navigate the treacherous waters of the gig economy

Glancing across the dashboard

One eye on the road

One eye on the smart phone navigator

Captain Gig begins his latest labor:

The dreaded U-Car Eats Double Delivery

Smooth sailing for the first pickup: Burger, Fries and Drink

But then, what’s this? The gods have punished us!

Aunt Annee’s Pretzels at The Mall… but which door?

Oh, ye false, blind gods of the algorithm

I go to the entrance port as flagged, but see no pretzels

Perhaps I’ll ask the sweet young lady walking past…

“Oh, Aunt Annee’s? I love their pretzels! Follow me, I’ll show you, but first I’m going to swing by Athleta and Victoria’s Secret, and then…”

No, Gig Driver, no! Chat not up the sirens of the mall! Cover thine ears and ask yonder Security Guard.

I ask the Guard and he points in two opposite directions

“Do you feel lucky, punk?” he says, and then laughs maniacally.

“Hey, are you a U-Car Driver? I drive for them, too, sometimes, if I need a little extra do re mi.

You know what you need? There’s a nice sunglass kiosk at the far end, that’s where you want to go. And I bet you need a rest room, too, don’t you? A little pit stop? There’s one in the Lotus Café…”

Nay, man! I have no time to chat! The pretzels! Where are the pretzels?

He points the true way this time, but alas, the line is long as dragon’s teeth,

and but one salesclerk at the register

I see my precious, my golden fleece, my cinnamon sugar pretzels in the bag ready for delivery

But I cannot just leap across the counter and grab them

I must wait out the family of four and then humbly ask for my treasure, and show the U-Car code

Finally, I return to my ride, return to the tree lined boulevards and strip mall islands, red lights and yield signs, pedestrians, bicyclists, wheelchairs, speeders, cops, tailgaters, and there! There is my first delivery!

A Burger, Fries, and Drink for the young woman standing and waiting for me, in a t-shirt and daisy dukes

“Sorry if I’m late” I say.

“Oh, That’s ok. I saw you, on my crystal ball, my smart phone, circling the mall. What were you doing?”

“Well, I couldn’t find Aunt Annee’s and…”

No, man, no! Back! Leave this second siren!

Back to the ship, to the next delivery, before the tide and gas prices rise to $3.50 per galleon!

Deliver the cinnamon pretzely goodness to the next customer!

I pull myself away from the beautiful siren, and ten minutes later I see the second stop

This client, too, has sensed my presence and waits at her door

Is her foot actually tapping as she awaits her just desserts?

I hand over the tasty treasure and mumble a meek apology

And the next day there’s an app message for me from U-Car Eats:

You have received a low rating for U-Car Eats deliveries.

Please make deliveries promptly.

If your average rating falls below 80% you will no longer be assigned U-Car Eats deliveries.

What?

 After my greatest adventure since the layoff, you might take away my U-Car Eats Double Deliveries?

Go ahead. Make My Day.