Delivering for Uber Eats has given me so many interesting encounters with others. I’m going to write about two small anecdotes, one of them funny, and another touching.
The first takes place at a Taco Bell at around 11:30 p.m. on a Friday night. Four friends, college-age, were standing behind me and speaking quite loudly. One says “I think I left my vape at the bar! And the worst part is I’m stone sober!” Her friend says back to her, “That’s because you’re a dumb b– that didn’t get drunk.” And she responds emphatically, distressed, “I KNOW!”
Keep it classy, Tulsa.
The second was near a downtown park. It was quite late, nearing 1 a.m., and the fare came in with no tip. It was a large order and it’s rare to have that much food and no tip, so I had a feeling it was someone who really needed help. I took the fare and stood at the park entrance holding three bags of takeaway, tray of drinks on the hood of my car. Uber’s Safety Centre open, just in case.
A man in a dingy Marilyn Manson shirt walks up with what I can only explain as a very weathered expression on his face. I give him the order, he gives me the PIN, and says “Thank you darlin’, we’ve really been needing it.” That would normally be it. But I looked at him and said “I hope you have a better night.” And for a moment, he smiled.
And that is why I do what I do. Sometimes what someone really needs is just a spotted dog to tell them they’re seen and they matter. I don’t have money to spare, or I would have wanted to give him some. Honestly, I don’t know if he would have even taken it. But that wasn’t what he needed. He needed to matter to someone else.
I really hope he still feels that he does matter, and that he and his family (or whoever “we” was) are able to get back on their feet again.