Entry #12…Think You’ve Had A Rough Year?

School time always means some noticeable changes to the Ridesharing biz. Traffic in the morning ramps up and things seems to find some normalcy….patterns. Consistency is easier to predict as a driver. There was literally nothing extraordinary to blog about in the past week. I literally said that to my self yesterday around noon. Then I met Donald.

Not even 30 years old, Donald has a prosthetic leg that begins 2/3 the way down between his right hip and knee. Truly, his last year has been a “Year from Hell”. His exact words.

Last June, he was at work. A typical day. Until his leg got caught in an auger. Yes, you read that right. It happened so quickly, he’s still not sure how it exactly happened.

It literally ripped his leg off just above the knee. He was 35 feet in the air and alone when it happened. The force was so strong from the auger that it twisted and ripped his jeans, and becuase of the snug fit of denim, it yanked his leg completely off and out from the jeans before he realized what had happened.

He saw his jean leg dangling and assumed it broke the leg. He reached down to pull it up and there was nothing there…just blood. Lots of blood pulsing out of his shredded thigh.

What he didnt know in that moment, but later learned at the hospital, was that the force from the auger somehow ripped out his right testicle.

His first thought was that he had to stop the bleeding. Amazingly, he had the wherewithal to get his belt off and put a tourniquet at the top of his leg. It slowed the bleeding, but not enough. He shifted the belt around to put his buckle along his artery, twisted it and tightened it to where the large buckle was putting pressure on that artery and slowed the bleeding down. Hearing him re-tell it, it occurs to me that probably 75% of people would be in such a panic mode they couldnt think to make a tourniquet, let alone put enough pressure on the artery.

He said it took nine minutes for anybody to realize what had happened and another 12 minutes to get up to him. He was very specific on the time. I can only imagine watching time tick away knowing there is a possibility of bleeding out alone. It then took 20 minutes to get him down, and it was another 12 minutes before the paramedics got there. Then it was a 15-minute ride into the emergency room. That’s over an hour. Incredible.

If that was the end of the story, that’s still one hell of a story, but sadly there were so many complications over the next several months. They took his leg about four inches above his knee. On a follow-up visit, they took a skin graft from his left quad to put on his stump. Several days later he started bleeding from his stump, and I won’t go into great detail about the excessive amount of blood or the pain, but he went to the emergency room where they helped stop the bleeding and gave him something for the pain, but then sent him home with no further investigation into what caused it.

Over the course of the next three weeks, there were three more emergency room visits and two hospital visits. Every time there would be lots of blood loss and more excruciating pain than the original accident itself. Always, they sent him home the same day.

Finally on the sixth visit, an ambulance came instead of his family taking him to the ER. In the time it took the ambulance to get to him, he filled a little bathroom trash can 3/4 full of blood and demanded they took it with him so that the emergency room people could see how much blood he had lost. It was the third different hospital he had visited, and finally there was some investigation and not just treatment. They found two fistfuls of coagulated blood in his thigh, because his artery had not been cauterized properly and also discovered there was internal bleeding and that was the cause of the last few weeks and previous ER visits.

Things finally cleared up with the leg. He got fitted for his prosthetic and this should be the end of the story by saying 14 months later he’s adjusting to life with a new job and his life is on the uptick.

Sadly, the year from hell included a minor accident over Christmas. While with his girlfriend viewing the Rhema Christmas lights, she was pushing him in a wheelchair and going downhill in the dark. The front wheel found a large crack in the pavement. The wheelchair stopped, but he did not. He broke his hip at the ball joint and spent 8 weeks recovering from that. And then four months later was riding in the passenger seat of a car when the car got T-boned. Amazingly all he received was bumps, bruises and some scratches and a minor concussion.

Hearing his story reminded me of those “fake” accident reports that got emailed around in the 90s. They were so ridiculous they were hilarious. Thjs was real life.

He’s actually gone over 60 days now with nothing happening. Let’s pray to God this guy has about 25 years of uneventful days. I think he deserves it.

Entry #11…A Feel-Good Story

I picked up Robert a little after 7am on a Monday. I took him to work, because his car was getting some work done. Robert’s story is not necessarily new to me, as I’ve heard a few feel good stories in my three and a half years of rideshare driving, although the exact specifics I hadn’t heard before.

It’s a feel-good story and I always enjoy longer rides that allow these to be shared with me. And I would even go so far as to say it’s a feel-good story with a feel-good future.

At 22 years old, Robert had recently relocated to Tulsa with his fiance and a new job. Like a lot of young couples preparing for a future together, they were taking a few risks and one of those was driving an older truck until they got settled and saved up some money.

One week before their wedding, his fiancee shared with him that she had been seeing somebody else and could no longer do “this”. She broke off the engagement, moved out and away from Tulsa. News like that stunned him, for it was her idea to move to Tulsa, a place where he knew no one. He immediately found himself sinking into a depression that would quickly turn to desperation. He called in at work as a no-show for a few days and just when he thought he could manage a full day of work, the old truck broke down on him. So in less than a week, he lost his woman, his vehicle and eventually his job.

It didn’t take long for him to be evicted, and Robert found himself homeless in a new and unfamiliar town. He stayed in Tulsa migrating around town between shelters and living amongst the homeless for six months. Seeing no upside in continuing this pattern, he managed to scrape up enough money for a bus ticket back to Colorado and moved in with his father.

After several weeks, he took someone’s suggestion and joined the military to regain a sense of responsibility and accountability and even more so just to try to gainsome direction in his life. But six weeks into basic training, he severely injured his foot and after a few weeks of trying to get caught up and be approved to re-join his class, a military doctor concluded that his injury had been worsened by a degenerative bone issue that he had had long before joining the military. So merely 12 weeks into his military career, he found himself back home with his father with another door closed in his face.

But that short time in the military was enough to right his mind and give him a new sense of purpose, and he went to tech school where he became certified to work on circuit boards and that opened the first of several doors moving forward for him. He excelled and was invited to earn certification to build military grade circuit boards. And that led him to his first job, and put him back in Tulsa, of all places.

He said it was weird coming back to Tulsa, but felt like the first time had gone so wrong, that it was fate that he ended up here to help turn his life around. His first job, which wasn’t paying him great compared to his qualification level, served its purpose in the eight months he was there. It actually gave him legit experience in the workforce and more importantly he made a friend who had recently gone through a similar situation of being homeless earlier in his life. And that man led him to church where for the first time he felt spiritual and started to see God at work in his life.

Out of the blue, someone sought him out and offered him a better job with a company making almost twice as much per hour. Now he’s working on military contracts for military grade circuit boards and is making connections in places other than Tulsa. But more importantly, in addition to thriving and being a positive person in today’s society, he has a vision for his future.

At the age of 28, he’s already talking with a man about going out on his own in four to five years and starting his own business working on circuit boards as well as other military grade projects. This friend has some money and other friends who have the money to help him start it up. And he’s already developing plans to give back and help those that suffer what he did for six months.

He explained to me how he wants to help the homeless, the ones that are looking to get out like he was. It won’t be easy, and it may take several forms to be a successful model, but he wants to provide housing and jobs for those homeless that are needing a fresh start and want one. He will hire them and train them to work in his business and then help them save up their money so that at some point in time when they are on their feet, they can go out and get a place of their own and become productive like he eventually did.

This whole “give back” vision he has is straight from God, he said.

“I know its what I’m supposed to do and I want to. I was so lucky to have a few people put in my life to help me, and I want to be that guy for others.”

As we were pulling off the highway and up to his place of work, we were discussing how people will doubt him and tell him that gis plan won’t work. I like what he said before he opened the door to get out. He said, “I know it won’t be easy, but I’m going to try, because if I don’t try to help them, how can I expect them to try and help themselves.”

Entry #10…Some Stories Are Worth Telling

Looking back on my blogging history, it’s easy to say I took a hiatus from Uber blogging for the summer. Nothing in June or July. But, sadly this is only my second Uber blog of 2018. Guess I need to drive more to experience more content. Or I need to develop the content into substance. Truth is, the idea of blogging about being an Uber driver sounded fun and interesting at first. So many cool stories of people and moments. Then to sit down and put it in black & white (or voice to text it to my phone…much easier but requires much more proofreading), required more work and thought than I anticipated. Worse yet, the more I blogged, the more I started to judge and devalue the experiences and stories.

“Does this really sound interesting?”

“Would anyone actually want to read about this?”

“Was that even worth writing about?”

The perils of writing/blogging.

My new philosophy? Fuck it. Write for myself and for the sake of writing.

‘Twas an interesting summer in the rideshare world of Tulsa. Seemed to be a new infestation of drivers. Heard a rumor that there were a bunch of teachers that started driving. If that is the case, there should be a noted drop-off of drivers in the coming weeks. That is one thing I have noticed over the 3 years and 4 months I have driven. The ebbs and flows of new driver traffic. Its always noticeable in January. People trying something new and/or needing extra coin to pay off their maxed out credit cards from Christmas. Summer is always a time to notice more drivers as well as big events in town like Oktoberfest, Chili Bowl, Hop Jam, St. Patrick’s Day, MayFest, and big name concerts at the BOK Center. That also brings back out drivers who have stopped for one reason or another. They come out for some easy money for a night or a weekend and then keep driving for another week or so, only to quit. Again. People like to quit things. And they’re good at it. But, that’s another blog for another time on a different blog site of mine.

I have noticed a trend or two in recent months. More people sit in the back these days. Some of them are still friendly and engage me in conversation, but the increase in rear seat choice has been measurable. I read an article late last year, some link from Facebook or Twitter, that was about Do’s and Don’ts for Uber Riders. Obviously it piqued my interest. I remember either the #2 or #3 thing was don’t sit up front when by yourself. Makes me wonder how many people read that and took it seriously. Several times a week I get asked as they approach my car, “Where do you want me to sit?”

I always reply, “Wherever you are comfortable.”

Another trend, which is fine by me, is younger folks with their earbuds in or even those Beats headphones. Totally on board if that’s what they want. I still get to listen to my music, no awkward attempt to converse from them and studies show these are people who don’t care what route you take. They trust you know where you are going. They kick back and enjoy the ride. Yes, some people are very specific on routes to take and want some serious input on the trip. Not to say they should just shut up, but on the other hand, trust me, I do this a lot. I know where I am going. I am aware, especially in Tulsa, there are drivers (new and seasoned, sadly) that don’t seem to know where they are going half of the time. They need to find something else to do besides drive or quickly get to know their city. They make riders apprehensive and suspicious about their driving. At least three times I week, I want to bluntly say, “Check out my profile. I’ve given over 8,000 Uber rides (5,000 Lyft rides), I know how to get there and what the fuck I’m doing.” I don’t. Well, I sort of have…recently. More about that next week.

While on my hiatus, I had this thought about altering this blog, titling it “A Day In The Life…”. Instead of blogging about things I notice and trends and humorous moments and maybe sharing one or two instances with each bog, I would hone in on one passenger. The reason I was thinking of a day in the life, is because while most of my riders are business travellers and some are just going to work or from work and of course there’s always the people that are going to the bar or out for dinner, at least once a week there is that one person that might be taking a simple basic ride, but there’s more to their story.

I don’t know what it is about me, or if it’s actually them, but sometimes people really share a lot about themselves. I’ve really mastered the ability of asking questions over the years to get to know people. That was very vital in my career, and I’ve always joked that you give me a stranger and 7 to 10 questions and in less than 30 minutes I’ll know all that I need to know about their life.

Sometimes in the car, I don’t have to ask a lot of questions, and sometimes I only have to ask, “How is your day?” That alone often sparks a conversation, and that’s how these interesting stories come about. Or at the minimum, they share enough about their life that it prompts my writing mind to want to share a fraction of their story. Like a short story encompassing just one day with all of their extenuating circumstances.

Obviously, I haven’t done that yet. Something I’m kicking around.

One of the more impactful stories from a ride happened a couple of months ago. It was just a random weekday morning, around 10 a.m. if I remember correctly. I pulled up to a hotel to pick up my rider, but it wasn’t at the front door or even a side door. He was along the side doing some landscaping work. We will call him Pete. He seemed excited when he climbed in my car with his backpack and he quickly apologized if he smelled like sweat and dirt. He had been working for several hours already.

I saw I was taking him from Broken Arrow all the way out to the west side of Sand Springs, which is a pretty good jaunt. Roughly 30 minutes. He seemed excited and all I did was ask him that one simple question.

“How’s your day so far?”

Pete quickly shared what is essentially a bittersweet story. I’ll share it in the order in which he shared with me.

He said awesome. I’m going to get my son today. I’ve been fighting for custody for almost two years now, and I get to go get him today.

Sensing this was a potentially precarious conversation, I still felt he wanted to share more, so I asked him, “so the court case went well?”

Actually, he said, my ex tried to kill herself last night. As soon as she is discharged from the hospital she’s being admitted to a mental facility. They called me this morning and said my son is in the system until I can get down there and get him. He’s in Texas and as soon as you drop me off at my truck, I’m hauling ass down there to get him.

He did speak with some remorse about her situation. And as it turns out they both were addicted to meth and she had a bit of a pill habit. She eventually left him shortly after the birth of their son and moved to Texas. He went to another state, got himself clean and then moved back to Tulsa when he felt comfortable and had eliminated all of his old associates that he used with. And now being clean, he had spent around $15,000 in court cost and attorney fees to try to get his son back. He was hearing rumblings that his ex was using and was really starting to hit rock bottom, but those rumors were not helping him get custody of his son. He said he hated to see her hit rock bottom, but he knew she wasn’t parenting well and that she needed help. But most importantly, this seemed to be the big swing legally for him to not only get shared custody but probably full custody of his son.

From there, he shared his story of his past and how he got clean. I asked him about the day-to-day struggles and his triggers and we talked about the failures of those that go through treatment but then continually struggle and fall off the wagon. It’s all about who you hang with, was the most important thing he said, which is what I had always figured and had heard from other recovering addicts.

He proved to be a man in victory. Been clean 18 months, got a dependable job, bought a house, was trusted and supported by his boss (who paid for his Lyft and was giving him paid time to go get his son). And, it appeared he was coming full circle now as he was about to go and “rescue” his son and make a new home with him.

Sometimes people share stories and they’re just cool to hear or fun or heartwarming and that’s the end of them. Sometimes there are stories, like Pete’s where I find myself wanting to know the rest of the story and how it turned out. That’s kind of the bummer of being an Uber driver. Ninety-five times out of a hundred, they step out of your car at the end of the ride and you never hear from them again.

As we pulled up to his truck, my fatherly instinct and need to share some wisdom kicked in. He reached out to shake my hand and thanked me. I gave him a firm grip, held it and said, “hey, I know you’re excited and you should be. But don’t drive like a bat out of hell down there and either get a ticket or get in a wreck. Your son is there waiting on you. Make damn sure you get there.”

And instead of ending the ride and driving away as I always do, I made a u-turn in the parking lot and then sat there as I watched him back away, pull out onto the road and take the on-ramp to the highway.

Entry #9… The Craziest Shit…

Although it doesn’t happen nearly as frequently as it used to, one of the questions I get asked the most is “so, you got any crazy stories? What’s the craziest thing that’s happened when you’re giving somebody a ride?” And the honest truth is, nothing terribly crazy has happened in my car in my 3+ years of driving.

I usually porcupine that question back to them nowadays and ask them, “well, what do you consider crazy? You’re obviously thinking of one or two things and wondering if it happened in here. What’s your idea of crazy?” Because I know where that question comes from. They either had watched or had heard of the old HBO show Taxi Cab Confessions. Or maybe it was on Showtime, heck I don’t remember. What I remind people is that show took place in New York and Las Vegas and that 45 to 50 minutes that they saw probably came from thousands of hours recorded in multiple cabs. I guess what I’m saying is in Tulsa we just don’t have a significant percentage of crazy ass people doing crazy ass things with zero inhibition.

The crazy that happens in my car is not what I see or what happens, it tends to be what I hear. People may be reserved to “do” scandalous things, but a lot of people have no problem saying whatever when they’re three feet from me or even in conversation with me. I am pretty sure this is yet another product of social media today. People just type whatever they want whenever they want and it’s bleeding over into their own lives to where even if they don’t know you, they’ll just be unguarded and share things about themselves. That has surprised me.

What all have I heard, you ask? You name it and I probably have.

A woman talk about her hysterectomy? Yep.

A couple discussing how to get their next “fix’ and from whom? Yes.

A woman screaming into her phone because she lost custody and blaming it on her ex and saying he’s on drugs and has a temper all while she reeks of weed and booze and im driving her to a bar. Oh yeah.

A drunk woman dissing her husband for being an a-hole and cheating and the only reason she’s still married is something specific and sexual in nature. Awkwardly, uh huh.

Guys calling their significant other to alibi the rest of their night? Frequently.

Couples bicker over something small, then drunkenly apologize and mumble “I love you though”, only to bring back up that mundane item over and over before I can get them home. More often than I care to count.

I’d much rather hear crazy than see crazy. It is entertaining and not threatening in any way. Because really, at the end of the day, the doers and the sayers of crazy are still just like everybody else. They are just trying to get from point A to point B, they just evidently have little or no guard and don’t mind sharing. One of the things that keep it fun.

And as always, I’ll end this on a warm note. My favorites have become the warm & fuzzy moments. The Saturday before Mothers Day, I pulled up to some Section 8 apartments and out walked a 19 or 20 year old male and he tells me his mom is coming, she’s just slow in getting ready. A few minutes later she walks out and is dressed in her best, dangling earrings and her best necklace (I’m guessing). He opens the door for her and after they get settled, she boasts that he will be out of town working his new job on Mothers Day, so he’s taking her out for Mothers Day dinner tonight. She seemed so proud and excited.

Another reminder to me that it doesn’t matter where you live or how you live, you must find enjoyment in life and appreciate what and who you have.

Entry #8….Burned Out, Boredom & Ballers

Preparing to leave town for a handful of days, I decided to get out and drive extensively this week. Of course I think I’ve used and abused my phone so much that it’s been acting up lately. But it’s been a unique week for rideshare. This week I’ve had a few great conversations and learned some unique things about a few of my riders.

It all started Monday early afternoon, when I picked up the Tour Manager and the Merchandise Manager for Avenged Sevenfold. They were in town performing with Breaking Benjamin Monday night at the BOK Center, and they wanted to make a food run and had to run to the UPS Store to get some documents in the mail. Me being the music junkie that I am, I always like to engage members of bands and band crews in some conversation but not the same old crap they probably hear all the time from people about how cool it is and hey can I get some free stuff. They both looked wore out and I asked how the tour was going. They both said the same thing. They were ready to head home and were already feeling burnt out even though they just came off of a month where they barely toured at all. Both said they’ve been in the business too long and it was wearing on them. So we discussed how their job along with several others always seem glamorous from the outside and how fun it should be. But like the merch guy said, his job started at 8:30 that morning getting everything setup, more things ordered, paperwork taken care of and then he had about a two hour break before the show started and he had to supervise all of the booths. Not terribly glamorous.

Monday night I picked up a couple of boys from a local high school and were taking them to their respective homes. I assumed very quickly they were basketball players based on the time that I picked them up, their height and their conversation. It’s funny to hear kids today, especially boys, talk about girls and just hear what they say how they say it. It sounds so much different then me and my boys back in high school, but they still discuss the same things. and even though I didn’t understand all of their lingo or could even make out every word that they muttered, I understood what they were talking about and knew what they meant. After dropping the first boy off, I engaged the remaining boy and conversation and we started talking basketball of course. I asked him if he was going to be playing anywhere next year, and come to find out he leads the entire state of Oklahoma in scoring. He’s had several scholarship offers from smaller schools, but he is now getting letters and interest from bigger colleges. I asked his name and later looked up on the internet, and there he was averaging over 34 points per game.

Lastly, this afternoon I was requested to go to Tulsa University North Campus, which is essentially where the Petroleum Engineer Majors go because it’s a little plant that they have set up out there for actual and practical work. The girl was from China, and is in just her second semester. As I always do with International students, I asked her how Tulsa is treating her and how things were going. She said the first semester was kind of boring and there was a culture shock, but said she then found a new hobby that she was enjoying and doing every weekend. And she said it just like that, which had me wondering what is this great new hobby. Turns out it’s about the last thing I would have guessed this girl to be doing. Fishing. Who knew?

Its interesting how sometimes the reasons for rides cluster together so randomly. Coincidentally, I’ve taken two people to the hospital to see friends give birth to their first child recently. I’ve also taken two people to the Tulsa County Jail to pick up a friend who was released after posting bail. Always interesting stories, and it never ceases to amaze me how much people share inside the doors of an Uber.

Entry #7….Selflessness & Gratitude

My original thought when I conceived this blog was sharing stories of some of the unique and interesting people that I meet while driving. I find it interesting that in last week’s blog, I mentioned how the majority of my riders over the last several weeks have been kind of standard and typical, albeit very nice people. In the last 48 hours, I’ve met two standouts. Let me share their stories.

Yesterday late morning, I rolled up to a house and saw an older gentleman easily in his 60s, but young at heart and very active. He climbed in and quickly told me that that was an appointment he was leaving. He’s worked the majority of his life in the healthcare industry, and now that he’s “retired”, he works in training and spending time with Alzheimer’s patients and their families. He especially focuses specific training with families on how to cope and how to get the most of their time with their loved ones, and also explaining what to expect when he talks with families who have patients that are in the early onset stage.

His name is Mike, and he shared with me that within the last year his wife had urged him not to drive so much anymore, especially at night because his vision isn’t what it once was and he does get anxious and a bit nervous behind the wheel even during daytime hours. He said he started using Uber about five months ago. He loves it and finds it so convenient, he sold his car and now for his work and volunteering he just Ubers around town. In fact, I was taking him from the northern side of town all the way to deep South Tulsa to a church where he was leading a support group. They were hosting a luncheon and as I dropped him off, people were in the parking lot and greeting him with such love and appreciation. It was very enlightening and inspiring to see. That in itself is a cool little story about the man. But he shared so much more of his life story that it doesn’t just end there.

Mike was one of six children. His dad was in the military and they moved around quite a bit, but after the age of eight they lived in California. After settling there for just a couple of years his father passed away. So it was just his mom, he and five brothers and sisters. He was the oldest and had a sister one year younger than him and then there was a gap of five years. After a year of struggling, his mom found two families in Oklahoma to adopt the four younger kids; two were girls and two were boys. One family took the girls and the other family took the younger boys. But within the next year, his mother became ill and then she passed. He’s never been told what either of his parents died from. But after his mother passed, his aunt and grandmother reached out to those two families to see if they could take one more boy and one more girl to keep the siblings together. The families were hesitant but invited them to come out to Oklahoma for a few weeks. While they were visiting the mother’s funeral was in Texas and that he and his oldest sister went to the funeral. When they returned to their families in Oklahoma, the families agreed to adopt them. They all were raised in Oklahoma; the boys raised 120 miles away from the girls, but as they grew older they all kept in touch with each other. Five of them are still living, and he said they still keep in touch despite one being in the Middle East, one on the east coast, two returned to California and he here in Oklahoma.

He is such a happy and grateful man for his life and all that he’s been through and content with where his life has taken him. It’s amazing what you can learn from someone in a 20-minute Uber ride.

I picked up Martha this morning from her house, and immediately saw the destination as the Saint Francis Children’s Hospital. Now when I’m taking people to hospitals or picking them up I’m always very leery about asking the reasons for them being there, unless they are obviously in scrubs or what would appear to be work attire for the healthcare industry. And yet there is always this nudge to be polite and engage them. Well most of them.

She said she was going to visit her son. The next dilemma is whether or not to ask the big question of how’s he doing. There have been times when I don’t ask that question, but I did this morning and I’m very grateful that I chose to.

Martha’s son was born 22 days ago. Born after just 25 weeks, he weighed 1.6 pounds at birth. He even dropped some weight initially. But as of today is at 1.8 pounds. She’s been going up to the hospital everyday. Every day that she doesn’t spend the night, and she has spent many nights there. As soon as she responded about how he was doing and why he was there, internally I felt a little regret asking her because it meant she had to share what is obviously a tragic story, of which the end is still an unknown.

But she had joy in her voice and such a positive outlook on things. A good friend of hers is an infant intensive care nurse and had shared some things for her to be prepared for. She said the last few weeks before delivery she knew he may be early, but still 11 to 15 weeks early was much sooner than she was hoping for. She even said it herself, there’s no reason to be upset or angry over something she can’t control. She did what everybody should do when faced with a situation like that. She gathered information and she read. She read everything she could to educate yourself and prepare herself as much as possible. And of course she prayed.

She told me that things are looking good for him. There have been no brain bleeds and while they won’t know for certain any exact long-term complications yet, she said things are looking good. In her words, I’m just grateful for all the great medical attention he’s been given and that he lived through it and all the love that he’s been shown.

According to her doctors the way he’s progressing, he may only end up with some weak lungs that might make him susceptible to colds and viruses for the first three to four years of his life, but by then he should be advanced enough and be perfectly healthy. The nurses also told her one of the biggest keys from here on out is his surroundings and his care once he leaves the hospital.

She smiled and spoke confidently when she told me she liked that that’s in her hands. “It tells me that if I do the right things, he’s gonna be okay.

She shared how he seems to do better when she is up there overnight, as opposed to going home for better sleep. Even talked about how she is smiling at other parents and trying to make them feel better and have hope when she is at the hospital. Being selfless and showing concern for others in our darkest hours always reaps good rewards

As I pulled into the parking lot of the Children’s Hospital, we shared our equal views on having an attitude of gratitude and being positive. Because being negative or angry or hateful never solves any problems and only makes you feel worse and those around you feel worse. She said she felt blessed and almost at the same time we both said, “God blesses those who bless others.”

Entry #6…International Flavor

Trying to make this a weekly thing, it’s not always easy. Going with the theory that everyone has a story is a great idea, and is full of truth, but when you’ve given 10,000 total rides (actually gave #10,000 Wednesday evening), a lot of stories begin to sound the same. And that’s not to knock anyone or to diminish any rider and their story, but I’ve heard and seen a lot. A lot of times your basic and general stories have really all morphed into the same story.

But digging back into some of my archives, some of my favorite riders in that first 18 months were the international students attending either Tulsa University Oral Roberts University. They came from a lot of different countries, but there were some consistencies. It was in those consistencies where I had some of the better conversations and met some of the friendliest kids.

For a couple of semesters, I met several young men who were born in Nigeria, but schooled somewhere in England and were attending ORU. Their educational endeavors were varied, but all definitely centered on their faith and mission work of some sort, which is really the cornerstone of Oral Roberts University. Some of them came from obvious family wealth. With two different gentleman, I had met their mothers and family members who would come to town and stay for weeks at a time to visit. A common ingredient with all of these gentlemen were above and beyond manners and a prolific mastering of the English language. They would admit that it came from their secondary education in England, but they all spoke with specific high-level grammar and sentence structure. As a former English teacher, it was refreshing to hear somebody use little-to-no slang and to form textbook type sentences. Don’t get me wrong, I swear and I use slang and often don’t speak in complete sentences when having conversations, but it is depressing at times to see our society just trash the English language and any formal syntax that it was based upon.

International students from TU tend to come from the Middle East or Asia. The majority of them are here for some engineering degree, mostly Petroleum or Electrical. Interestingly, a lot of them are sponsored by employers back in their home country, meaning that those companies have guaranteed them jobs when they finish their degree and are paying for their education. Attending Tulsa University is not cheap for people who live in Tulsa for it is a private school, so for folks from other countries halfway around the world, the expenses are even greater. Especially because when summer break and fall break and winter break and spring break all occur, rarely do these students go home or anywhere. It costs so much to go home and visit family they end up staying on campus. That’s where I see a lot of them, making trips to the mall to kill time or to the grocery stores to stock up on food until the school meal plans kick back in.

It’s interesting too because I find men from the Middle East very talkative and friendly and they’ll talk music and sports and some of them are even inquisitive about my opinion on the political landscape. The women sometimes are chatty but they usually travel in pairs or trios and often talk amongst themselves in their native tongue. It’s actually entertaining because they speak so quickly and so fluently in a language I cannot understand, until they’re discussing something regarding today’s pop culture when all of a sudden I will hear the name of a singer or a group or a movie title spring up amongst their foreign words.

These are riders I actually enjoy giving rides to because I’m always curious to get their story. What brought them here? How are they enjoying the United States and the Tulsa experience? Are they going home or are they staying here after graduation for employment? Regardless of the answers, I always find these conversations enjoyable, since I consider myself to be exceptional at the art of connecting with people.

International riders are not only limited to the students of the Tulsa area. While Tulsa may not be considered a large metropolitan area and a huge business center, it is one of the top three hubs when it comes to the oil and gas industry. And that brings people from multiple parts of the country but a lot of different areas of the world. Surprisingly, people from all over also come to Tulsa for personal reasons. I have met people from a lot of different countries. Again as I mentioned previously, I wish I had started keeping track and marking off both the states as well as individual countries as I met people. It’s easy for me to name off the top of my head that I’ve met people from England and Ireland, Scotland, Germany, Italy, Nigeria, Canada, Australia, Mexico, Brazil, Peru, Bahamas, as well as Switzerland, Sweden, Russia and Romania. That doesn’t even take into account the Middle East or Asia which would include Laos, Vietnam, China, Japan, Singapore, Malaysia and then there is Saudi Arabia, Iraq, Oman, Egypt and Pakistan. I’m certain that I’m missing several others.

Which brings me to the gentleman I gave a ride to last night. Funny that I should meet him last night, because I began this blog on Wednesday and was thinking I haven’t really met any exceptional stories of late. Most have just been run of the mill, yet very nice people. This gentleman’s name was Oleg. He’s been in the United States for 10 years. He came over here to go to school and promised his mother he’d be back in nine months. But he got a job working for casinos in Las Vegas. He worked in restaurants for several of them for over 6 years, but then wanted to move on and do something different. He is now a truck driver and just criss crosses the country and is really enjoying it. I’ve met many truckers over the last couple years and most of them were a little disgruntled with the industry, mainly disappointed that the promise of pay hasn’t come to fruition for them. When I asked Oleg, he had no complaints at all. That’s when he explained how life is back in his home country. He is from Moldova. For those of you that aren’t familiar with the geography over there, it is a small country that sits directly between Romania and Ukraine. He said if he was over there he would be lucky to make $100 a month. He feels like he’s an entrepreneur or someone who wants to make his own money, and the odds of successfully doing that in Moldova are almost nill. He said there is so much corruption and such a heavy Mafia presence over there, if you open your own business there are so many people you have to pay off to stay in business. And while he misses his mother and she misses him, he said she continually tells him to stay over here and enjoy life and make his own money. Sad to know that’s the situation over there, but here is a guy that is living what is defined in his mind as the American Dream.

Entry #5…Dollars and Sense

Well it’s been almost 40 days since I last posted, so since I’ve taken my extended holiday break it’s time to get back to normalcy. 

The holidays are an interesting time to be a Rideshare driver. They are some very busy times, but because of people taking time off from work, school being out, and people leaving town there are many days that are slower than average. It does make for some inconsistencies. It’s really not much different then servers at restaurants. When the times are busy you got to make sure you’re sticking money away because there will be slow days. The significant difference between the two are as a server you can get sent home or scheduled fewer hours because management knows it’s going to be a slow time. The beauty of a Rideshare driver is nobody tells you when or how long you can be online to drive. If you want to drive for 18 hours a day, no problem.

I enjoy driving around the holidays, although I don’t drive as consistently as many days. But I find it interesting to meet people that are flying in or out of town to be with their family for the holidays. There’s always a few good stories and sometimes heartbreak stories of people that have no one or have to work through the holidays based upon their profession. Then there’s the entertaining people that have had way too much to drink on a weekday night at the office holiday party. 

Of course there is to big myth how New Year’s Eve is the biggest night of the year. I mean technically it is, but from the rider’s perspective. That is probably the single night where more people are taking Uber and Lyft than any other night. It gets built up and everybody assumes it’s this monster night for drivers. Truth is it’s better than a good Saturday night but not significant. This year especially. Mother Nature made sure to chill things down in Tulsa, so there was a noticeable percentage of people that did not go out this year and brave the sub-zero wind chills. But in general, while more people ride on New Year’s Eve there are also a significant amount of more drivers out there thinking they’re going to cash in on a crazy big money night. 

Now my single biggest day ever was on New Year’s Eve of 2015. But I had two other days that we’re almost as big. Those other two days are actually bigger money days then New Year’s Eve 2016 or 2017. 

The key to making money is finding the time frames you’re comfortable with but also trying to make sure that they are busy times. It’s also knowing what big events can make good money. Another big myth is if there’s a concert at the BOK Center then drivers are just going to make a killing that night. The truth is concerts can give you a couple of big rides potentially but it’s not like a concert can turn a $100 day into a $300 day. Sure there’s extra traffic getting to the concert and sometimes there is a light surge with a few of those rides. And after the concert there’s generally a surge, especially for bigger artists. Guns and Roses, Madonna, and the bigger country artists will sell out and create post-concert surges of up to 5 or even 7 times the normal rate. The biggest surge I ever saw in Tulsa was after the Madonna concert. It got up to 9.4 times and I was fortunate enough to catch a long ride that had two stops that night. The reality is that post-concert surge lasts about 30 minutes, so you get two shorter rides or one long ride. Obviously, it pads the day’s numbers but doesn’t break the bank.

Now there are two big weeks for Rideshare driving in the City of Tulsa. One is Oktoberfest. Believe it or not, Tulsa boasts one of the five best and largest Oktoberfests in the United States. When I first heard that I didn’t really believe it, cuz it’s not like we have a big German population here, but I’ve read it several places and this last October I gave a ride to a guy from Ohio who travels to multiple Oktoberfests every year as part of an Entertainment Group, and he confirmed that Tulsa is a great Oktoberfest and easily a top 5. The second ,of course, is the Chili Bowl, which is currently going on this week. Again this is an event that I was aware of, but did not realize how many different people come from so far away and so many different corners of the world to watch one of the biggest events in midget Sprint car racing.

I did not drive during last year’s event, but in 2015 I remember meeting people from California, Tennessee, Alabama, Brazil, Canada, Arizona, Wyoming and Pennsylvania. And I’m sure there were others that I just didn’t get where they were from. They fill the motels and the Expo Center at the fairgrounds and then they fill the restaurants and bars after all the racing is over for five nights. If you’ve experienced, seen or heard how NASCAR fans and race fans like to tailgate, imagine them just taking that inside to a variety of bars, pubs, taverns and clubs for five straight nights.

My favorite story of driving Chili Bowl week involves these four kids from Wyoming. I say kids because they all were under 21. The first night I picked them up they were just leaving the Chili Bowl and going to grab some food. A couple of days later I picked them up from a local pool hall and club that 18 year olds can enter. After hearing their failed conquests of picking up some local girls, they returned to their hotel. The third night that I saw them was Saturday night. I picked them up from the Chili Bowl and this time they all wanted to see if they could just brazenly walk in to one of the Gentlemen’s Clubs in town. I told them I would wait in case they didn’t make it past the door. They didn’t. So after asking me where the best place to go to see pretty girls would be for somebody under 21, I suggested Twin Peaks. Later that night right before 2 a.m,  I got a ride request, and lo and behold it was my four Wyoming friends. Somehow they got somebody to serve them beer. And lots of it. And based upon their conversation they met lots of pretty girls. They were on a minimal budget and the entire town sells out during this week so they were staying at the Clarion by the airport. The kid in the front seat declared everybody needed to empty all the dollar bills out of their pockets. Nobody really questioned him and he gathered all their bills, most of them wadded-up, and he handed them to me. He said they were all broke and counting their pennies while they were in town, but since they were flying out tomorrow and they wouldn’t be spending any more money and they saw me four times that the only tip they were going to leave all week was me and it was whatever money they had left. If I remember right it was $36, and I even declined and told him they needed to keep it tomorrow, but they insisted, and I’ve learned when somebody’s insistent upon tipping it would be an insult to decline.

And speaking of favorite riders and the fact that everyone has a story, it was the week before Christmas 2017 when I pulled up to pick someone up and I saw a wedding party. This wasn’t a church or an event center, but there were women in bridesmaid dresses, men in tuxedos and the bride in a beautiful dress. I was to take the bride and her groom from a location where they were taking pictures to the church. Not terribly unique although I don’t get a bride in her wedding dress in my car often. Actually only once before, and it was after the reception. What made this couple unique is this lovely bride was from Aruba. The groom was from Broken Arrow and he met her while on vacation. After 2 years of their relationship, they decided to tie the knot. (I have a knack for getting people to share their life story with me in 10 minutes). After the honeymoon, he was moving to Aruba to live with her. A very cute couple. 

That couple got me thinking, I wonder how many countries have been represented by riders in my car? And how many states? It would be hard to be completely accurate after 32 months of not keeping track. Something new to do.

Lastly, i received this End of the Year email from Uber. I pride myself on being a top driver. This validated that.

Entry #4…From Dark Clouds Often Come Refreshing Rain

I’ve been driving for 32 months. What that means is I’ve seen some shit. Not sure I would admit to being proud of this, but I’ve taken people on a variety of trips. Sure, most of them are to home, to work, to a restaurant or the club, to an event, or to a friend’s house. But there have been some places I’ve taken people where it’s kind of obvious what’s going on, and then there’s even some where it’s not so obvious, but I had a pretty good idea what just took place.

Probably 90% of Uber and Lyft Riders in Tulsa are just standard, friendly, appreciative and I guess who you call normal folks doing normal things that just need a ride. Somewhere between 3% and 5% are those ones that make you scratch your head or are ones you don’t talk about. In some cases, these riders feel comfortable and/or anonymous enough to share what their night plans are.

Truth be told, I would put a $20 bill down on the fact that I’ve taken people to do the following: Buy drugs, have extra-marital affair/hook-up, same gender late night rendezvous, all male Meth orgy, a working girl from “John” to “John”, get a consult on an abortion, get an abortion, escape an abusive husband, go to detox, and strippers going to After Hours “events”.

I remember the morning after the first time I took a stripper home. Not my home, but her home. Pretty sure the wife would frown on the first option. But my wife and I almost always do a mid-morning or late morning breakfast on Saturdays when I drive late on Fridays. Well that next morning I told her not to be alarmed by the glitter on the seat because I hadn’t had a chance to vacuum the car yet and one of my last rides was taking a couple of strippers back to their apartment. Her response was admitting she didn’t think she’d ever be okay with me having strippers in my car, but in this case not a big deal. As long as the tips were cash only. Funny, because one of my first thoughts after they tipped was somehow some of my younger “investments” finally had some ROI.

But the flip side of all of those dark things that I may have delivered people to, is there are really neat stories and really inspiring people that I’ve met along the way. And many of them come from the dark parts of town. I often get asked if I have ever been afraid when picking somebody up, or if there are any rides I turned down because of what parts of town they come from. That’s an easy answer. No. Never. And I have never felt unsafe or concerned, and I have been in the sketchiest of neighborhoods in Tulsa. I’ve been in multiple Section 8 apartment complexes and in cul-de-sacs where half the houses had boarded-up windows and gates around their yard and things didn’t look terribly friendly. Ive been in neighborhoods and on streets I have seen on the news for violence and crime. I’ve been there at noon, I’ve been there at 9 p.m. and I’ve been there at 1 a.m. Truth is where you can find violence and crime and poor people, there are always good, ambitious people that understand where they live and what it looks like to outsiders, but they’re doing all they can to improve themselves and their families. They know their “situation” will not define them for life. Actually some of my favorite stories have come from these type of rides.

I remember the first time I received a ride request from North Tulsa. It was winter time, so the sun had already set for the most part and it was around 5:30 if I remember correctly. It was a tough neighborhood and you could tell a struggling one. I pulled up to this house and this younger black girl comes out and as soon as she gets in my car she’s immediately thanking me and very appreciative. She said two other Riders had accepted her request but cancelled before they got to her house and one had even called her to confirm directions. She said “I know people don’t always want to come get me here, so thank you for coming to get me. I was supposed to be at work at 5.” She worked at the Home Depot downtown and said her boss was pretty understandable when she called and told him why she was late. She became what I call a regular. She took my cell phone number and would let me know when she needed a ride to work. She said she was always able to catch a ride home, but not always to work. After I had given her four or five rides, she let me know she was about to buy a car and would be able to drive herself. She was going to find a second job so she could go to college. A good person making the best of her situation and working her ass off to help herself every way she could.

My other favorite story involves a young man I picked up from a high school on the north side. The request actually was under the name of a female but I picked up this kid and a friend of his. They had their book bags and each had a basketball. They were both headed back to the same house and in having a conversation with them, they told me that they had stayed late after basketball practice to get some tutoring. About a week or so later, I received another request to the same school from the same woman’s name and waiting outside was one of the boys. Same book bag and I assume the same basketball. I asked him who the lady was that was paying for his Ubers home. He said it was his guidance counselor and that he had stayed after basketball practice to work on his skills. I gave him a total of nine rides over the course of about three months. We talked about his future and what he wanted to do and how he was doing in school. I shared with him that I was a former teacher and coach, so we talked basketball, strategy, teams, players and just our joy for the game. The first time I asked him about his grades, he said he had a 3.4 grade point average. I complimented him and every time he got in the car, I always asked about his grades. He always said the same thing. “Very good, sir.” He always spoke with such respect, even though I told him he didn’t need to keep calling me “sir”. He was offered and accepted a scholarship to play basketball at a small school out of state. That last time I gave him a ride, as always I asked him about his grades and he said it looked like he was going to end up with a 3.6 GPA. It was a week away from graduation. He was excited because he had promised his mom that he would get achieve a 3.5 GPA. Should have seen the smile on his face when he shared that. Of those nine rides, one time I picked him up on a Saturday late morning, and he was at a little strip mall not far from his apartment complex. He had just left the barber shop. I realized then that we were put into each other’s lives for a very short period of time; I like to call it a season,. I have no idea what kind of impact or influence I had on him, but he reminded me that in bad parts of town there can be good people working their tails off. Young adults who have ambition and abilities. A reminder that people will try to grow out of their circumstances. And that Saturday that I picked him up. He had that same book bag and his basketball.

Entry #3…Of Vomit, Appreciation and Douchebags.

Well, we’re approaching the big holiday season. Essentially about 45 days where we celebrate Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Year’s, and filter in things like Black Friday, the dreaded Christmas shopping, college finals and college students coming home to sow more wild oats.

Sometimes these are more risky times to drive then New Year’s Eve or Oktoberfest. And yes I’m talking about the overindulgers, and those who drink way beyond their means. 

I’ve been very fortunate, as I approach 10,000 rides given (a number I expect to hit before the end of 2017). I’ve only had one person throw up in my car. And in his defense, it wasn’t that bad. We had pulled over and he had managed to get out of the car for Round 1. As he settled back in the car and I verified that he was okay and we were good to go, he grabbed the car door handle and was opening it but just couldn’t hold it in any longer as he splattered the passenger door. His buddies in the backseat weren’t very impressed, and I could tell he felt really bad. But as I quickly surveyed the damage, I realized it was not going to be much to clean up. Instead of giving him a hard time about puking in my car, I busted his balls because of the content of his vomit. It was kind of purplish and smelled pungent and fruity. I told him I was not mad that he puked, but more disappointed in what he puked up. Told him he lost his man card for drinking some purple froo froo drink instead of some tequila or beer. His friends really started busting on him then. Fortunately, we were only a mile or so from their apartment, so I could quickly get them out of the car, roll the windows down and go home to clean up the carnage. That really is an overstatement, because it took me less than 10 minutes, and it was already after 2 a.m. so I didn’t lose any income. And yes, there was a cleanup charge of $100 Uber charged him and gave to me.

But with Thanksgiving tomorrow, the thing that never escapes me is how thankful most riders are. That was one of the first things that I noticed when I was driving. Regardless of inebriation level people are always thanking me for picking them up, taking them home, taking them to work, taking them wherever it was they were going. I wouldn’t say I was becoming cynical and had lost total faith in humanity, but with the way society was being portrayed on TV and with social media, it was easy to dismiss people you didn’t know. Driving Uber and Lyft restored my faith in humanity, at least from a standpoint that people were appreciative and thankful and friendly 90-95% of the time. And after two years and nearly 8 months, that sentiment is as strong as it was the first day I drove.

Part of why I started to blog about Uber and Lyft was to share some of the riders stories. There been so many, and I know I have forgotten some of the good stories of  people that have climbed in my car since Day One. Sometimes it’s just people that have a really heartfelt story, or sometimes it’s people that just lead a fascinating life, and then there are people that you can tell they are just plugging away day-by-day and trying to overcome something very challenging.

Just this week I gave a ride to a young man probably in his late twenties, going from a doctor’s office to his work. Come to find out he is eight months removed from surviving a terminal cancer. He said it was kind of a hassle because he lost his license while ill and hadn’t had time to go get it so he was having to take a Lyft to work when he couldn’t fetch a ride. And twice a month he still had doctor’s visits to go get checked out. I pointed out to him that it was much better than the alternative. He agreed. He then was telling me how his 8-year old son and his 2-year old son went through some extensive testing to make sure that this cancer was not genetic and that they were not at risk. During the whole process, his wife left him, but he was somewhat upbeat. He said since he beat cancer he figured everything else would work out. I gave him some encouraging words, and told him from somebody that has been on planet Earth for 50 years and have seen people quit and seen people persevere, I told him his story sounded like somebody who is going to persevere and to keep his head up. We all are going to go through ups and downs in life and that’s how we find out who our true “Foxhole Partners” are. They stick around for the worst of times, and everybody else bails when things get weird, rough, or out of their comfort zone. He’s a good kid, and hopefully I’ll give him another ride soon to see how he’s doing. He said after Thanksgiving he was going to go get his license back and find a car so life would be easier on him and his two boys.

Now to wrap this week’s entry on a lighter note. One of my more interesting early rides was the first person ever passed out in my car. Definitely interesting. It was either a Tuesday or Wednesday night, I don’t remember exactly except I know it wasn’t a weekend. It was a concert at the Cain’s Ballroom, and as I rolled up to pick a guy up, there was a guy that looked totally shit-faced leaning heavily to his left while walking across the street. My initial thought was “Oh dear God, don’t let that be my rider”. It was. Rarely do I get somebody that can’t walk very well and looks way out of it. Honestly I’ve probably only picked up four or five people that were like that and by them self. I’ve maybe only seen another 20 people like that but they were always with a group or at least one friend. Thankfully. 

So this guy gets in and he hadn’t entered a destination, so I start the ride and he tells me Brookside, which is essentially four miles south of downtown. A short ride, so this shouldn’t take long. We literally get a mile and a half from where I picked him up and his chin is on his chest and it’s obvious he is out. I thought about trying to get him conscious and alert while I was driving, but figured I’ll just get down to Brookside and figure it out from there. So we roll up to the QuikTrip, and I nudge him heavily with my elbow and say his name and honestly it takes about four tries and a good two minutes for him to say anything coherent. I said dude I need an address. And he said a few things I couldn’t quite understand and then something kind of like hold on give me a minute. So I said, look you have three options I can push you out of my car here and you can figure it out on your own, you can get your shit together and give me an address, or I can just take you to the police station and they can figure out what to do with you. He started giving me directions so we rolled forward. but as we turned down the last street he told me to turn around. I could tell he did not recognize a house. My patience was pretty much gone, but I still in good conscious couldn’t just kick him out of my car in the middle of a neighborhood, but I allowed my anger and frustration to steam out. I said give me a damn house number and a street. He understood what I said but obviously couldn’t articulate a response through his mouth, so he grabbed his wallet and showed me his driver’s license. We were still about a mile away. In that mile of driving, he started to get a little bit more of his stuff together. And as I rolled up I told him I hope he feels better in the morning, then he reached in his pocket and gave me a $10 bill, which is something and tells me he knew he was being an ass. He managed to wobble out of my car and I watched him wobble up to his front door. Thank God that was over. But there’s one more element to this funny story. It was about a week and a half later, when I accepted a request over in Brookside. I believe it was a Saturday at about 5 p.m. or somewhere near dinner time. I looked at the name and saw the location and thought to myself, damn. Do I really want to risk this being the same guy? I decided I’d go ahead and not cancel the ride and pick him up. I was right. It was the same guy. I recognized the house. As he came walking out of his house, he clearly was sober and clearly was having a good day, and very quickly I realized he did not remember me. The Rush concert had been just a few days previously, so I was wearing my R40 t-shirt. As soon as he got in my car the first thing he said was, oh man I freaking love Rush. Did you go to that show? My immediate thought was he’s not such a douchebag after all.