Memoirs of a Rideshare Driver: The Pros and Cons of Life in Los Angeles
Episode 14 in a series of true rideshare stories
“I’m making it an early night,” she tells me, getting into the car around 10:00 PM. “I have to get up early so I can make it to this flea market in the morning. I’m going to graduate in three weeks, and then I won’t live here anymore, so I’m trying to do all my favorite Boise things one more time.”
“Oh, that’s exciting.”
“It’s sad. I’ve been here four years and I love it, but I have to go back home to SoCal for the time being. Where are you from?”
“Well, I was born in Los Angeles, actually. But we came here when I was a little kid.”
“Oh. I live a couple hours from LA. Do you ever go back?”
“I’ve visited. I tried to move there a few weeks before the pandemic started, but that didn’t work out.”
She winces. “Yeah, that wasn’t the place to be.”
I laugh. “Definitely not.”
“Not that it ever is,” she adds.
“No?”
She sighs. “Everybody there is just so… I don’t know… phony?”
“Yeah, I get that. It’s definitely kind of a performative culture. All the fake-it-till-you-make-it types, like everybody’s pretending to be something they’re not.”
She nods emphatically. “But they’re all actors. And it’s like they’re all trying to play the same part. So not only is nobody who they’re pretending to be, but they’re all pretending to be the same person. And they’re just talking, talking, talking, and you’re like, ‘Is this even you talking? Like, are these your thoughts, or is it just the character?’ And, like, everybody you talk to is like that. It’s exhausting!”
She picks up steam, getting louder and faster and more impassioned.
“And it’s a dirty city! Like, everywhere you go, it’s dirty! Everything is expensive but it’s still dirty. And people are jerks to you. And the homeless people. It’s like, when I meet homeless people here, they’re just, like, regular, cool people who are down on their luck, but there, it’s like, you get harassed by them, and you’re like, ‘Dude, you’re literally frickin’ on heroin right now. That’s why you’re homeless!’”
I nod along. There’s no stopping her now. Speaking of actors playing parts, she’s nailing the rant scene right now, with a vein throbbing in her forehead and her eyes wide and her fingers stiff, waving her hands around like one of those inflatable tube people at used car dealerships.
“And my sister just moved there, and I’m like, ‘Why?! What are you doing?! Now I’m gonna have to go visit you, and you know how much I hate LA!’ Why would anyone want to live there!? I hate it so much!!”
There is a long silence. I’m not sure what kind of response she’s looking for from me. Maybe she’s just realizing she never actually asked me whether or not I liked LA.
“Nice weather,” I offer, after a long pause.
“Today?”
“In LA. They get nice weather there.”
“Oh. Yeah, that’s true.”
“Yeah…”
The radio begins to play California Dreamin’. I change the station.
Memoirs of a Rideshare Driver is a series that tells true stories of my 10,000+ trips as a rideshare driver. I will post them every Monday.