Using Rideshares as a young woman continues to be awful

The illustration in the article entitled Using Rewards as a Woman continues to be awful

Photo: Mario Tama (Getty Images)

“You know, we’re here in the middle of nowhere. I could go and keep you if I wanted to! ”

My Lyft driver laughed and assured me that he would never do that to a customer, of course – but it was just another notch in my ever-growing belt of awful travel experiences. I laughed with him, because honestly it wasn’t surprising to me; I’ve been through this shit before. It wasn’t until my husband called in a panic to ask if I was okay that I realized this shouldn’t be normal.

I think we are all familiar with rideshares. It’s basically a taxi service that runs through an app where ordinary people take you from point A to point B. I remember the first time I heard about them, in 2014, when my friend recommended me to take an Uber downtown Austin back to my apartment. They became a de facto part of my college experience because I liked going to places, I didn’t like parking, and I struggled to understand public transportation after a childhood spent in the boons.

However, when taking a travel permit as a woman, there is always a necessary risk. Accept that you are essentially putting your life and safety in someone else’s hands. These are people who go through a short screening process, but who are generally left to their own devices, unless they receive a complaint. And some, like my recent driver Lyft, are trying to isolate themselves from complaints; the man I traveled with last week wouldn’t let me out of the car until he looked at me and gave him a five-star rating and a tip. I had to contact Lyft after I got to my destination to let them know that this guy had actually been really creepy.

Unfortunately, it’s not the first time a rideshare travel driver is weird. I doubt it will be the last, although I have reached the point in my life where renting a car is a legal possibility in most states; I really doubt I’ll give in to anyone else from now on.

It was college time when I drank a few drinks and then took an Uber home from the concert venue I was at. The driver parked, but didn’t unlock the door until he asked me if I wanted to go eat with him right then.

Or the second time a driver waited for me to be locked up before his friend appeared in the third row from where he had slept; that friend then offered to sell me cocaine and, when I refused, he tried to convince me with a shoulder massage.

Or the moment a driver continued to stretch to touch my knee because “he wanted to see how my jeans felt.”

Or the moment a driver got out of the car and tried to follow me to my apartment complex under the guise of making sure I got home safely.

Or the moment a driver told me how much he hates driving women, because they were so hard to get a good rating, then asked me to get out of his car on the side of the highway, halfway through. he had miles to go to the airport because it was construction work and he didn’t want to drive through it.

Or the countless times a driver asked me why my boyfriend / fiancé / husband allowed me to travel alone because men like that driver could easily take advantage of me. Which is usually accompanied by an insurance that They I’m not one of those men – but seriously, my luggage is in their trunk, so even if I saved it, they could find me at my address (and yes, and that happened).

Most of the time, I have decent rideshare drivers. Most of them just want to talk a little bit about where I’m going or share a little bit of their life story. Many are more than happy to be silent, which is good for me. I had a hand in giving me a sales pitch for their side agitation. Usually, I’m happy to sit and enjoy the walk.

But there are enough crawlers who use the service that, if I travel a long distance, through an unknown area, drunk or going out at night, I will take the penalty fee for canceling drivers until I get a woman. I hate to waste someone’s time, but sometimes you wonder if one of those people will be the last person you ever talk to – or at least if they make you so uncomfortable that the adventure is ruined.

And I hate the fact that I feel grateful that I was just made to sense unsure, because there are other women who have had it even worse.

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