My Uber Career

My Uber Career

I signed up to be an Uberizer.  I had difficulty signing up online.  When I grew up, computers were the size of refrigerators and they only responded to Captain Kirk's voice.  I decided to visit the Uber store in person.  I went to the Uber place by Pier One  and saw five Uber people sitting in Uber chairs at Uber tables.  I asked to talk to them about Ubering.  They said no, go back to the front door and sign in on the ipad on the istand.  I had walked right by, thinking it a tiny table, setting my cinnamon macchiato on it.  After I signed in, I went back into the Uber room, where I sat, ignored by all those bowing their heads to their devices. Eventually, the same person who told me to go back and sign in called my name off a list.  I was the only one on the list.  I told her I had failed at signing up online because I am over twenty-five and cannot operate complicated things like Rubik's cubes.  She showed me how to input my entire life’s personal data into her pad in five seconds.  I told her how old I was and she started over, slowly, talking to me the way she talks to her parents once a month at assisted living.  Eventually I got it.  I went home and proudly turned the app on and got in my car.  But my car would not let me get texts from riders while in gear because the onboard computer didn’t allow texting while driving.  I went inside, went online on my PC Google machine search engine looking for help.  A blog of people let me know I had to turn off my blue tooth in my car because my 2016 ford was too old and stupid to be an Uber car.  It took me ninety minutes to turn off the blue tooth because 1: I don’t know what "blue tooth" means, and 2:  I don't know what "settings" means, and 3: I was raised on an abacus.  The blogosphere taught me how to Uber.  I turned on the App again and it told me the terms and conditions of my contract had changed in the last ten minutes.  I had to read a new policy document the size of the big bible my parents use as a TV stand.  I just scrolled down and hit "Yes, I agree” ten times. That may have sent my bank account numbers to a server farm in Moscow.  So again, I was ready to Uber.  No, the Uber app told me my insurance card was expiring in 2 weeks so I had to photograph and submit a new one.  I did that, but I think I also sent them all my vacation pictures from St. Croix.  So now I was ready, right? Well, no.  By then, my selfie pic in their system no longer looked like me, because I was aging so fast.  I updated that with a picture of my neighbor Bob who looks the way I want to look. Then I was ready to Uber.  The app said no, because my GPS navigation failed, because my phone was not transmitting my car’s location, because I had not told it to, because I was afraid my wife was tracking me.  My phone and I were no longer on speaking terms, so I went to "Settings" and pushed every button there to Yes.  Suddenly my credit card company texted me that I had just bought a new Range Rover two states over.  Later I tried again to go online, so I could Uber (pick up strangers.)  I should be able to pick up strangers easily because that’s how I got married.  The Uber App said not so fast. It said my car was not clean enough and I had to vacuum out the back seat, and for God’s sake hang a deodorizer on the mirror.  Okay, done. Now I was ready to Uber.  But then I read in the paper that human trafficking is illegal, so I called my lawyer, who hung up on me.  Next, I called AARP for advice but I couldn’t hear their response because my hearing aids were picking up air traffic control chatter.  I was stumped.  I have not yet picked up any strangers, but boy, do I want to.  I really need that Uber money since my Social Security checks started going to Nigeria.  I did get a bonus, a cool U sticker in my car window, free.  I think I will be able to Uber if I hire an IT guy to ride shotgun.