The question I’m asked most often: “How do you like it?”
Truth is, I kinda dig it. Driving Uber isn’t a bad deal if you’re OK with beating holy hell out of your vehicle and earning a (very) modest wage. There are perks: I meet interesting people. I hope they tip well (read: at all). I pray they don’t puke on the upholstery.
But the field of ride-sharing, if you can believe it, wasn’t my original calling. I’m a writer, and I’ve experienced a modicum of success in the business—something most would even describe as a “career.” Except that this foggy notion doesn’t really exist anymore, in journalism or elsewhere. I discovered that the hard way.
So now I hustle, freelancing, ferrying commuters and hoping—like so many others—for better days. They’ll come. Most of life is spent busting ass and waiting, if you have the patience, for the next big break. In the meantime, I like sharing my stories of life on the road and, for now, in a rut.