Super-Uber Girl is a Facebook page (www.facebook.com/Super-Uber-Girl) I created to post fun stuff about being an Uber driver. But I didn’t want to do a short post because I have more material today than for a regular Facebook status post.
Last night I set a new record for my longest Uber ride: 125 miles from San Antonio International Airport to Carrizo Springs. The guy I picked up was down here for a job in the oil fields and going to stay with his buddy who got him the job. He was a very nice guy and I made him laugh with some of my stupid stories. But I started the run at ten o’clock at night and didn’t get back home till almost two-thirty a.m..
Now I will say that if my father were alive he’d be freaking out over this because as much as I loved my father, he was so freaking over-protective of me. It wasn’t like I did stupid stuff as a kid to warrant that because not only was I very shy and quiet, but very physically risk-adverse as well. It was like he didn’t think I had it in me to handle anything that wasn’t a safe, sit-down type of job. I will say that I haven’t taken what I feel are unnecessary risks but at the same time, the world isn’t going to eat me alive. Because if the world or some Godzilla-like monster wanted to eat me alive, I’m sure there’s nothing I could do to stop it.
But Godzilla is just a movie and the real monsters are in human form spouting racist bullshit and talking about wars while trying to legislate all the things that will make life shit for most everyone but themselves. And this is all while claiming ‘it’s for your own good’ and to please shut the hell up and do what you’re told even though it’s making you sick and miserable.
And again, I loved my father to pieces but he spouted a variation of ‘it’s for your own good’ to try and get me to fall in line all my life. So in a way my Uber-driving feels like an act of rebellion at times. I started driving for Uber part-time in addition to other gigs like food delivery and package delivery. But then I discovered I liked Uber driving because all I do is pick up people and drop them off. My job is two-parts navigation and driving and one-part trying to make funny conversation if so inclined. I’ve never come off an Uber-run wanting to tear something apart because of bullshit I had to swallow like I did too many times to remember in my former life in call-center hell.
On the road last night as I headed out of the city, a few stray thoughts wandered into my head like if something happened. First, I wasn’t going off to Camp Crystal Lake (had to get a ‘Friday the 13th’ joke in here) as I was on a busy highway with numerous places to stop along the way. Two, the guy I was with was a complete gentleman. And three, I was just doing my job. So if something had happened I would just have had to deal with it. But it’s not blind-faith that guides me on nights like that.
It’s a faith that I can deal with whatever is thrown at me. It may not be in a way someone else likes, or approves of, or any of their other bullshit. But more often than not, nothing really happens. I’ve learned that if you just put one foot in front of the other, or keep your foot on the gas in last night’s case, and keep going you’ll get to where you need to go. And if something does happen, you just deal with it without wringing your hands or pitching a shit-fit like a spoiled brat. And I have tried my best to just deal with things head-on and get it done without too much hand-wringing. I will admit that I have panicked more than once and lost my shit a few times, but I am human and therefore allowed to fuck up once in a while.
Sometimes I have to beg, borrow, or steal time to figure something out but time isn’t like money in a bank vault that you’ll go to jail for stealing. Time is fluid though slippery as heck sometimes, too. But it’s not the enemy. No, for me time is a friend that will work with me if I just give it room to breathe and flow. That’s where my faith in this world comes from: just letting time move in its’ own way and keeping myself afloat.
There are times when this attitude feels like an act of bravado I used to think was an illusion. It’s not an illusion because somehow, some way I’ve been able to make things work. Maybe not in a nice-and-neat way but trust me, steady jobs and steady paychecks can be yanked out from under you in the blink of an eye. In my former call-center life there was a saying that someone could be managed out the door. I saw that first-hand and I think there was an attempt to do that to me more than once. But now how much money I make or how well I do at this Uber-gig of mine depends on how much I put into it. And I’m not just talking time on the road, but about how much I believe in myself.
So I’m reaching the point where I don’t want to back away from bravado. It won’t always be a world-class rant like yesterday’s post here. But deep down, I will know that I always had it in me to make things happen. I might not know how I’ll get from point A to point B sometimes, and sometimes I just have to go out and do what I do and hope that things will work out. But I’d rather be on the road making money by turning my wheels than sitting around and eating bullshit for a living. Because yes I take things one day at a time but in reality, that’s all we’ve got to work with.