Get Your Ass Out of my Lyft (Please)

“I don't even want you to nod, that's how much you annoy me. Just freeze and shut up.”― Neal Stephenson
“I don’t even want you to nod, that’s how much you annoy me. Just freeze and shut up.”― Neal Stephenson

About a month ago I signed up to be a Lyft driver in Denver to pick up extra cash. My full time social work gig barely pays the bills and I have what my mother calls “champagne taste on a beer budget.” My mother apparently does not know how expensive beer has gotten in this city.

When I signed up to drive for Lyft I had high hopes that I would not only get to pad my bank account like the walls of a personal safety room but also that I would get hit on by lots of handsome dudes. To date I have driven a total of 14 hours and 7 minutes, given 33 rides and made $207.71 pre-tax (every penny of which is long gone). Exactly zero handsome fellas have hit on me but several have passed out in my back seat and one requested that I pull over so he could vomit.

Before giving my first ride I read countless articles on the Internet about the advantages of rideshare driving and was tremendously optimistic about the opportunity. Either I really suck at it or the people who wrote those posts are completely full of shit because in my experience rideshare driving is hardly a worthwhile endeavor.

As a single and urban dwelling gal with an emotionally demanding job, I highly value my leisure time and self-care indulgences. Perhaps this part of me represents the selfish and unaccountable ‘millennial’ spirit that society collectively bitches about, yet holding true to my values has kept me afloat on choppy seas for many years and I do not intend to change my ways. At the time I signed up to be a Lyft driver I was willing to temporarily sacrifice my ‘me time’ for a new experience and for the sake of my financial well-being. That willingness has since driven far, far away.

I don’t want to listen to anymore sloppily sloshed 21-year-olds scream sing “Ironic” by Alanis Morissette. I don’t think I can handle waiting for another passenger to find “like the least unhealthy option” on the Taco Bell drive-thru menu. If one more person tells me that my mild and completely kick ass classic 90’s hip-hop playlist is “obnoxious and actually sort of offensive to certain people,” he may suffer the same fate as Tupac, and I of Suge Knight.

Given the time commitment and patience needed to become a profitable rideshare driver, I think I would rather spend my limited free time as the plastered person in the back of a Lyft and not as the driver of one. In lieu of silently hoping that everyone who gets in my car for a ride will immediately get their ass back out, I think I may just hang up the keys of my rideshare driving days.

4 thoughts on “Get Your Ass Out of my Lyft (Please)

  1. Oh no! Not at all how I thought it would go either. 🙁

    I’m proud of you for trying something new, even if it didn’t work out…

  2. It is pretty annoying not to be able to support yourself as a social worker with one job! I have a part time job in a sneaker store which gives a nice discount but would I prefer not to have to work a second job? Yes! But it’s not usually dealing with drunk people at least!

  3. Those days are soo over for me..I sympathize with you. I had guys sing my name everytime they got in the car, “Gloria, Gloria, I think I got your number”…ugh! Very annoying.

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