3 Hours 51 Minutes
One Saturday this past summer, DH and I decided to spend the afternoon RideSharing. We set off in our respective vehicles ... seeking to make a few bucks, give a few rides, and do it all in the spirit of spending "quality time together."
We had been texting between rides, sharing our locations and ride highlights. The plan was to end the afternoon by meeting up at our church for the 6:00 service. About 4:00, I got pinged to a thrift store on First Avenue. As I pulled up to the address, the business appeared to be closed. Occasionally, an entered address will come up as that of a neighboring one. I eyed each corner of the intersection. There was no sign of a would be passenger watching for a ride. After several minutes, I was about to give up the search when I saw three Asian women come out of the business next door to the address to which I'd been pinged. One of the women was rolling a suitcase.
"There you are!" I exclaim, as I pull up to where they were standing. The woman with the suitcase moves to put it in my car. The oldest of the women approaches my open window, extending her phone toward me while pointing to the screen.
"You take me Chicago..." she says.
"What?!?" I reply.
"You take me Chicago..." she repeats.
"Uh, no... I am not taking you to Chicago." I call back to the woman with the suitcase. "I'm not going to Chicago!" I then grab my phone and swipe the screen. Destination Greyhound Station, Chicago, IL You will arrive in 3 hours and 51 minutes. No way.
By now, the other two women have disappeared, leaving me alone with Mama-san. We most definitely have a communication problem. She only knows "You take me Chicago..." and I can only respond with "No - I not take you Chicago" (I have empathetic accent issues). It then occurs to me that perhaps I can find a ride for her via the RideShare Driver Facebook page. I quickly make a post: "Anyone want to take a woman to Chicago?"
"I can" someone replies. "When does she want to go?"
"Now..." (Can we say short notice?) It's not going to work for him.
I end up canceling the ride, hoping the RS company will send out another ride for her. Driving away, I wonder why they would think it is okay, to send an out of state trip to a driver, with no upfront warning whatsoever. I would later read comments on my Facebook post that other drivers had encountered this same woman previously. The neighboring business (from where the women had come out) was a Massage Parlor. One driver commented, "Has it occurred to anyone this could possibly be human trafficking?"
"No," I sadly confess. "I was too concerned with the prospect of spending the next eight hours driving to Illinois and back." 😟
Fast forward a few weeks.
It's a sunny September morning and I'm parked in the RideShare lot at the airport. I get a ping, this time with a notation: This is a long trip. (A long trip usually means more than 45 minutes). It's 9:00 a.m. I don't imagine there's any ride that won't have me home by at least suppertime. I accept the ride and drive to the terminal. A large man comes toward my car pulling a duffel bag on wheels. He's coming from the rental car area, I greet him, open the trunk and swipe my phone. The first thing I see is You will arrive in 3 Hours and 51 minutes. Seriously? A wave of deja vu sweeps over me. "So it looks like we're going to Chicago," I say.
"Yeah... closer to the Indiana border I think," he says as he squeezes into the front seat of my Aveo and belts up. We set out as I silently regret not having gone to the restroom before coming to the airport.
The next couple hours, Jake and I engage in 'get acquainted' conversation. I never miss an opportunity, as we approach a rest area or truck stop, to ask if he needs to stop. "No... I'm good," he replies each time I ask. In the course of those first 150 miles, I learn about Jake's early life, being raised by his mother in the projects. He never met his father until he was a teenager. Jake was involved in gangs. His father was shot to death outside his mother's home, by drug dealers. Jake has made some bad choices, but his life is going well now. He's about to start a new career as a semi-truck driver. In fact, I am taking him to pick up his new rig. He's really hoping it has a mini fridge.
About 150 miles into the ride, I notice my phone flashes the end of the trip. "Holy buckets, Jake .... your ride just ended. This has never happened to me before. Can you call your guy and have him order up a ride for the rest of the way? Tell him to originate it at the gas station in LaSalle we'll be to shortly." We soon arrive at the station where (most importantly) I get to use the restroom 😧
While I'm gassing the car, Jake's contact calls him back. After a few minutes of conversation, he hands me his phone. "He wants to talk to you. He's Russian or something...." I take the phone and sure enough, I feel as though I'm talking to Boris Badenov. Mindful of my empathetic accent tendency, I do my best to avoid talking in a Natasha voice. Boris says he is unable to get Jake a ride with me, as I'm out of my area. I suggest they get another driver (from the LaSalle area) to drive Jake the remaining distance. Boris says he prefers I finish the trip. I try calling driver support but just get a recorded message.
It's time to make a decision (which next to talking to someone without responding in a like accent, is the second hardest thing for me to do...) Boris says he'll pay me cash. I throw out a number and surprisingly he says 'Fine.' I then go off the RS grid and drive the last 85 miles 'under the radar'. I deliver Jake to Boris... who pays me as agreed upon. Relieved, I turn the car around and drive back to Iowa.
Upon my return home, I contacted the RS company and complained about the ride aborting en-route to the destination. I further explained I had completed the trip for a cash tip, whereupon the company promptly took $40 away from what they'd previously paid me. 😠So much for the honesty policy. I must say, the trip was an experience.
Every now and then, I wonder how things are going for Jake, as he drives his truck 'over the roads' of the United States. I wonder about Boris too. You see, he had rented Jake a car to drive the 3 hours from his home in Wisconsin to the airport in Iowa ... so I could then drive him 3.5 hours into Illinois (though no where near Indiana). I asked Jake why he hadn't just driven the rental car the 2.5 hours from Wisconsin to Illinois, bypassing Iowa (and me) all together. He pondered the question. "Two and a half hours? Really?"
Really.
I hope too, his truck came furnished with a mini-fridge... and GPS. 😉
We had been texting between rides, sharing our locations and ride highlights. The plan was to end the afternoon by meeting up at our church for the 6:00 service. About 4:00, I got pinged to a thrift store on First Avenue. As I pulled up to the address, the business appeared to be closed. Occasionally, an entered address will come up as that of a neighboring one. I eyed each corner of the intersection. There was no sign of a would be passenger watching for a ride. After several minutes, I was about to give up the search when I saw three Asian women come out of the business next door to the address to which I'd been pinged. One of the women was rolling a suitcase.
"There you are!" I exclaim, as I pull up to where they were standing. The woman with the suitcase moves to put it in my car. The oldest of the women approaches my open window, extending her phone toward me while pointing to the screen.
"You take me Chicago..." she says.
"What?!?" I reply.
"You take me Chicago..." she repeats.
"Uh, no... I am not taking you to Chicago." I call back to the woman with the suitcase. "I'm not going to Chicago!" I then grab my phone and swipe the screen. Destination Greyhound Station, Chicago, IL You will arrive in 3 hours and 51 minutes. No way.
By now, the other two women have disappeared, leaving me alone with Mama-san. We most definitely have a communication problem. She only knows "You take me Chicago..." and I can only respond with "No - I not take you Chicago" (I have empathetic accent issues). It then occurs to me that perhaps I can find a ride for her via the RideShare Driver Facebook page. I quickly make a post: "Anyone want to take a woman to Chicago?"
"I can" someone replies. "When does she want to go?"
"Now..." (Can we say short notice?) It's not going to work for him.
I end up canceling the ride, hoping the RS company will send out another ride for her. Driving away, I wonder why they would think it is okay, to send an out of state trip to a driver, with no upfront warning whatsoever. I would later read comments on my Facebook post that other drivers had encountered this same woman previously. The neighboring business (from where the women had come out) was a Massage Parlor. One driver commented, "Has it occurred to anyone this could possibly be human trafficking?"
"No," I sadly confess. "I was too concerned with the prospect of spending the next eight hours driving to Illinois and back." 😟
Fast forward a few weeks.
It's a sunny September morning and I'm parked in the RideShare lot at the airport. I get a ping, this time with a notation: This is a long trip. (A long trip usually means more than 45 minutes). It's 9:00 a.m. I don't imagine there's any ride that won't have me home by at least suppertime. I accept the ride and drive to the terminal. A large man comes toward my car pulling a duffel bag on wheels. He's coming from the rental car area, I greet him, open the trunk and swipe my phone. The first thing I see is You will arrive in 3 Hours and 51 minutes. Seriously? A wave of deja vu sweeps over me. "So it looks like we're going to Chicago," I say.
"Yeah... closer to the Indiana border I think," he says as he squeezes into the front seat of my Aveo and belts up. We set out as I silently regret not having gone to the restroom before coming to the airport.
The next couple hours, Jake and I engage in 'get acquainted' conversation. I never miss an opportunity, as we approach a rest area or truck stop, to ask if he needs to stop. "No... I'm good," he replies each time I ask. In the course of those first 150 miles, I learn about Jake's early life, being raised by his mother in the projects. He never met his father until he was a teenager. Jake was involved in gangs. His father was shot to death outside his mother's home, by drug dealers. Jake has made some bad choices, but his life is going well now. He's about to start a new career as a semi-truck driver. In fact, I am taking him to pick up his new rig. He's really hoping it has a mini fridge.
About 150 miles into the ride, I notice my phone flashes the end of the trip. "Holy buckets, Jake .... your ride just ended. This has never happened to me before. Can you call your guy and have him order up a ride for the rest of the way? Tell him to originate it at the gas station in LaSalle we'll be to shortly." We soon arrive at the station where (most importantly) I get to use the restroom 😧
While I'm gassing the car, Jake's contact calls him back. After a few minutes of conversation, he hands me his phone. "He wants to talk to you. He's Russian or something...." I take the phone and sure enough, I feel as though I'm talking to Boris Badenov. Mindful of my empathetic accent tendency, I do my best to avoid talking in a Natasha voice. Boris says he is unable to get Jake a ride with me, as I'm out of my area. I suggest they get another driver (from the LaSalle area) to drive Jake the remaining distance. Boris says he prefers I finish the trip. I try calling driver support but just get a recorded message.
It's time to make a decision (which next to talking to someone without responding in a like accent, is the second hardest thing for me to do...) Boris says he'll pay me cash. I throw out a number and surprisingly he says 'Fine.' I then go off the RS grid and drive the last 85 miles 'under the radar'. I deliver Jake to Boris... who pays me as agreed upon. Relieved, I turn the car around and drive back to Iowa.
Upon my return home, I contacted the RS company and complained about the ride aborting en-route to the destination. I further explained I had completed the trip for a cash tip, whereupon the company promptly took $40 away from what they'd previously paid me. 😠So much for the honesty policy. I must say, the trip was an experience.
Every now and then, I wonder how things are going for Jake, as he drives his truck 'over the roads' of the United States. I wonder about Boris too. You see, he had rented Jake a car to drive the 3 hours from his home in Wisconsin to the airport in Iowa ... so I could then drive him 3.5 hours into Illinois (though no where near Indiana). I asked Jake why he hadn't just driven the rental car the 2.5 hours from Wisconsin to Illinois, bypassing Iowa (and me) all together. He pondered the question. "Two and a half hours? Really?"
Really.
I hope too, his truck came furnished with a mini-fridge... and GPS. 😉
I love reading about your adventures! They always bring a smile to my face. Thank you.
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