I have never been a waitress, never held a position in the hospitality industry, unless you count a semester of misery at McDonald's during my short stint at Moscow, Idaho in the fall of 1977. But here I am, all signed up to be an UBER driver, launching exactly a week from today in my Montana town.
The intake crowd hanging at the airstream trailer in the Wal-Mart parking lot were hipper than hip, not locals, I correctly surmised, but here from Seattle. I was an eager inquisitor, asking all the right questions. Contract worker? Where's the contract? Oh, you already signed that under the terms and conditions! OH, OF COURSE I DID, haha. And the tutorial on the app? Of course I want the demo with the cutie named Alex. And the 20% cut UBER takes? Oh, correction my dear, it's actually 25%! But no matter, I'm as enthused as I can be, my own boss, my crisp, barely used 2014 Civic is newly vacuumed and ready for launch day.
Yes, Alex reported, I am all set, license, registration, proof of insurance, and good news "you passed the background check!" Things were pretty slow when I showed up, but alas, I was assured that earlier, at the 10:00 start time, they were quite busy. Exactly why I waited until later, of course.
We shall see. My first few trips will be nerve wracking I'm sure, but I will power on and forge my way into the field of paid public service. My expectations are tempered, as real life has a way of dominating any get rich quick scheme. I will give it an honest effort, see if the payoff is worth the extra miles, the wear and tear on my little Civic, and the drunken bar patrons needing a ride home at 2:00 AM. Dear God, let no one puke in my little car!
