Select Page

I Lyft in Los Angeles. I do, I admit it. I have grown to dislike driving greatly due to the fact I’ve commuted most of my entire driving life up until a couple years ago. I Lyft to parties where there is no parking, to movies, events, and to work. The catch is, I work 5 minutes from my house. Now you’re thinking “typical LA” having someone driving you to work a total of seven blocks is pathetic, let me explain. The first few months I had a spring in my step walking to work every day. It was glorious. Feeling like I was a part of the city, moving my body, refreshed for work, However, my spring turned to agitation and depression realizing I was the only person walking on Sunset Boulevard in the morning except for the deranged Hollywood inhabitants that will pull down their pants and pee on the sidewalk screaming “Here’s a cocktail for ya.” Don’t misunderstand me, I have empathy for our Los Angeles Homeless situation, but when you witness, experience, are a part of it on your way to work every day it can get emotionally draining.

Then, I downloaded Lyft app. Cue Adele and clouds lifting. Now, I do not Lyft every day, but it does come in handy in weather and if I’m wearing high heeled shoes. The thing about Lyft is it’s not just a car service. The drivers are a cast of diverse beings that are rich in storytelling. One time, I heard this drivers story about how his girlfriend wanted to marry him so he kicked her to the curb. He was going places and he can’t be held back.

My daughter hates  Lyft. She doesn’t like the strangers. I get it. It is strange. Sometimes, I feel uncomfortable. Especially when the drivers talk the entire time. I realize that most people feel uncomfortable with silence. I don’t. When the driver starts the chit chat, I just don’t have it in me to tell them after 10 minutes and hearing about their commercial audition, their voice is like nails on a chalkboard. Plus, if they’re talking away, they drive like 2 miles an hour. Or they drive with a lead foot and break so hard that your neck feels like it’s going to split in half or feel nauseous like I’ve been on a Caribbean cruise. I’ve been given advice, told about life stories, and big dreams. By the end of the ride, sometimes I think they might hug me goodbye.

One day though, I had a tough day, really tough. I was picking up take out after work and had bags full of food waiting for my lyft to pick me up and take me home where I could have a glass of wine and wallow in my sorrows. The Lyft arrived and here was this sweet young guy and he asked how I was. Then I did it. I teared up. God. I was embarrassed beyond belief. We were just quiet the entire ride to my home. When we arrived, he looked back and said “I really hope you feel better.” It was so sweet and it restored my faith in humanity. Go figure. So, I will press on with my Lyft excursions which includes all the chatting, sketch driving, weird music and all. It is Los Angeles after all and I embrace the adventure.