It’s been almost a year since I started driving for Uber. I only have some 300+ rides under my belt, but I feel pretty seasoned at this point and think it’s ample time I’ve reported on the things I’ve seen:
Today I earned a little over $30 for a total of seven trips, all but two of them being UberEATS deliveries. The first delivery was cool – I got a hit to pick up some food at the Macaroni Grill and delivered it half-way across town near Central & Tramway. The $6 tip was more than what I earned for the delivery, so I was pretty stoked. Up next was the McDonalds on Central & Wyoming. I can’t say enough how much this place grosses me out. It’s one of the worst McDonalds in town, with crackheads and prostitutes swarming the place at all times of the day. This pickup was good though. As soon as I got there I tapped the button for pickup and walked inside. SURPRISE! SURPRISE! The order was almost ready when I got up to the counter. As soon as they handed the food over I gave the thumbs up sign on the app and started my delivery. Of course the delivery was only a couple blocks away, as there’s a McDonalds within walking distance to almost every neighborhood in Albuquerque even though Uber has me drive 15 minutes without earning any pay to drive to that McDonalds, but I do it anyway just to keep my acceptance ratings up. Yup! Another $3.37 here I come!
The hotel wasn’t that bad though. There were only a few junkies and dealers out in the parking lot, and the hooker at the top of the stairs looked pretty good, like she was just getting into the business. I found the hotel room with no problems, and when the guy who opened the door with tattoos all over his face pushed a couple one-dollar bills on me, I just smiled. . . I was thankful that I finally got a tip from someone ordering food (if that’s what you want to call it) from McDonalds for once. My question is, why does it always have to be the gangsters though? Can’t some rich white people also tip me for driving clear across town to deliver their lazy asses those Quarter Pounders and Big Macs? . . . Anyway, after I handed off the food the door slammed as I heard the tattooed faced man’s speakers blaring out the Strange Music theme song I’ve come to recognize from this part of town. I wondered if maybe he wasn’t part of Tech N9ne’s crew.
After that I made my way back down Central, almost making it to the car wash before I got another ding on the app. Boom! Off to AppleBees in the heights. Nothing like getting an order from the nose bleeds to make up for the cheap McDonalds deliveries. It was time to make some real $! But nope, not really. The food was pretty much ready and I gave the thumbs up on the app before delivering the two build-your-own sampler appetizers a little further up the road. The dude I was delivering to looked redneck as fuck, but strangely enough he asked about my Nissan, as he said he owned a Pathfinder. I just nodded and handed the food through the passenger side window, saying, “Oh, really?” just pleased that he was handing me some money for my trip. Bada bing bada bam! Trip was over and I had four dollars more in my pocket to thank for it. But shit! Another fucking stupid McDonalds delivery. “God damnit!” I thought to myself. “Not back to Wyoming & Central.”
This place is so ghetto. I don’t think I can emphasize this enough. I mean seriously fricking ghetto. There were like 20 employees there, a couple of them standing around eating french fries and complaining in Spanish about how the orders weren’t ready. Some old fat dude had left his food on the counter after finally getting his correct order of slop without mayonnaise. The guy’s old order sat there for the whole 15-20 minutes I waited after driving ten minutes to get to this place. The crackheads outside didn’t worry me too much though, as they were too busy slanging dope to even think about breaking into my car. It looked like mostly dealers anyway, just trying to get their hustle on, so even with the junkies lingering about I wasn’t that nervous. Inside, I waited and waited before being asked several times what I was waiting for from different employees, all of whom said my order would be up soon.
The first tweeker to place an order after me was grinding her teeth pretty bad, as she made weird gestures to the employees behind the counter. I debated whether she was high on crack or meth, and finally went with meth before she got her drink and moved on. When the prostitute walked in I was surprised though, as I had just seen her walking down Central and thought she looked pretty good for a trick in that part of town. I wondered if she was actually a cop until I saw her up close. Boy was she tore up, so nope, couldn’t be a cop. Ok, maybe I shouldn’t judge, but judge I did. The hooker sat down at a table to wait for her food while some older black lady stood around next to me, waiting for her order. We eventually exchanged some words about the wait time, both of us smiling to fend off the awkwardness. Eventually I told her how I wasn’t even on the clock yet and that if McDonalds were a passenger I could’ve cancelled the ride at this point and been paid for it. She told me good luck and I said enjoy. The hooker was still playing on her phone at this point after her number had already been called, and the slop from the no mayonnaise guy was still sitting right in front of me. I contemplated asking for a free burger to compensate me for the wait time, but decided it was too nasty before leaving with a big thumbs down on the Uber app for the long wait. The delivery was just up the road but close enough to the war zone to have me a little worried about my safety. But when I got to apartment number one I just saw the smiling face of a young black male, happy that his food was finally there. I apologized for the wait time and blamed McDonalds before making my way past the roughnecks standing in the apartment’s parking area.
For the most part that was it for the night. I picked up a passenger heading home from the Nob Hill area who said he’d just moved from Denver because of the high housing costs there, and a young lady who was going downtown who had the same complaint about housing costs in California. After that it went dead for me, but luckily the young white guy I saw passed out face down on the corner of Central & University wasn’t dead. He was smack in the middle of the sidewalk with a guitar case on his back and I thought for sure he was in need of medical attention. When I parked at the 7-11 I was a little nervous that he might be on angel dust or something so I approached him cautiously. “Hey! Are you all right?” I asked. “Do you want me to call the paramedics?” The scruffy looking man, probably in his late twenties, opened his eyes and asked me to help him up. I debated whether I could catch a disease from doing so before deciding to help him. At least he wasn’t dead or dying. That was a good thing, but when I lifted him up I knew he wouldn’t stay standing for long. “You’re going to fall. You’re going to fall!” I told him right before he tripped on the curb and fell back into the rocks on the edge of the 7-11. “Just rest it off,” I told him before smiling at the woman in the SUV who saw the whole ordeal. After getting back into my car I drove all the way home and parked near the curb before deciding that would be enough for the night. Then I went offline . . .
Today I earned a little over $30 for a total of seven trips, all but two of them being UberEATS deliveries. The first delivery was cool – I got a hit to pick up some food at the Macaroni Grill and delivered it half-way across town near Central & Tramway. The $6 tip was more than what I earned for the delivery, so I was pretty stoked. Up next was the McDonalds on Central & Wyoming. I can’t say enough how much this place grosses me out. It’s one of the worst McDonalds in town, with crackheads and prostitutes swarming the place at all times of the day. This pickup was good though. As soon as I got there I tapped the button for pickup and walked inside. SURPRISE! SURPRISE! The order was almost ready when I got up to the counter. As soon as they handed the food over I gave the thumbs up sign on the app and started my delivery. Of course the delivery was only a couple blocks away, as there’s a McDonalds within walking distance to almost every neighborhood in Albuquerque even though Uber has me drive 15 minutes without earning any pay to drive to that McDonalds, but I do it anyway just to keep my acceptance ratings up. Yup! Another $3.37 here I come!
The hotel wasn’t that bad though. There were only a few junkies and dealers out in the parking lot, and the hooker at the top of the stairs looked pretty good, like she was just getting into the business. I found the hotel room with no problems, and when the guy who opened the door with tattoos all over his face pushed a couple one-dollar bills on me, I just smiled. . . I was thankful that I finally got a tip from someone ordering food (if that’s what you want to call it) from McDonalds for once. My question is, why does it always have to be the gangsters though? Can’t some rich white people also tip me for driving clear across town to deliver their lazy asses those Quarter Pounders and Big Macs? . . . Anyway, after I handed off the food the door slammed as I heard the tattooed faced man’s speakers blaring out the Strange Music theme song I’ve come to recognize from this part of town. I wondered if maybe he wasn’t part of Tech N9ne’s crew.
After that I made my way back down Central, almost making it to the car wash before I got another ding on the app. Boom! Off to AppleBees in the heights. Nothing like getting an order from the nose bleeds to make up for the cheap McDonalds deliveries. It was time to make some real $! But nope, not really. The food was pretty much ready and I gave the thumbs up on the app before delivering the two build-your-own sampler appetizers a little further up the road. The dude I was delivering to looked redneck as fuck, but strangely enough he asked about my Nissan, as he said he owned a Pathfinder. I just nodded and handed the food through the passenger side window, saying, “Oh, really?” just pleased that he was handing me some money for my trip. Bada bing bada bam! Trip was over and I had four dollars more in my pocket to thank for it. But shit! Another fucking stupid McDonalds delivery. “God damnit!” I thought to myself. “Not back to Wyoming & Central.”
This place is so ghetto. I don’t think I can emphasize this enough. I mean seriously fricking ghetto. There were like 20 employees there, a couple of them standing around eating french fries and complaining in Spanish about how the orders weren’t ready. Some old fat dude had left his food on the counter after finally getting his correct order of slop without mayonnaise. The guy’s old order sat there for the whole 15-20 minutes I waited after driving ten minutes to get to this place. The crackheads outside didn’t worry me too much though, as they were too busy slanging dope to even think about breaking into my car. It looked like mostly dealers anyway, just trying to get their hustle on, so even with the junkies lingering about I wasn’t that nervous. Inside, I waited and waited before being asked several times what I was waiting for from different employees, all of whom said my order would be up soon.
The first tweeker to place an order after me was grinding her teeth pretty bad, as she made weird gestures to the employees behind the counter. I debated whether she was high on crack or meth, and finally went with meth before she got her drink and moved on. When the prostitute walked in I was surprised though, as I had just seen her walking down Central and thought she looked pretty good for a trick in that part of town. I wondered if she was actually a cop until I saw her up close. Boy was she tore up, so nope, couldn’t be a cop. Ok, maybe I shouldn’t judge, but judge I did. The hooker sat down at a table to wait for her food while some older black lady stood around next to me, waiting for her order. We eventually exchanged some words about the wait time, both of us smiling to fend off the awkwardness. Eventually I told her how I wasn’t even on the clock yet and that if McDonalds were a passenger I could’ve cancelled the ride at this point and been paid for it. She told me good luck and I said enjoy. The hooker was still playing on her phone at this point after her number had already been called, and the slop from the no mayonnaise guy was still sitting right in front of me. I contemplated asking for a free burger to compensate me for the wait time, but decided it was too nasty before leaving with a big thumbs down on the Uber app for the long wait. The delivery was just up the road but close enough to the war zone to have me a little worried about my safety. But when I got to apartment number one I just saw the smiling face of a young black male, happy that his food was finally there. I apologized for the wait time and blamed McDonalds before making my way past the roughnecks standing in the apartment’s parking area.
For the most part that was it for the night. I picked up a passenger heading home from the Nob Hill area who said he’d just moved from Denver because of the high housing costs there, and a young lady who was going downtown who had the same complaint about housing costs in California. After that it went dead for me, but luckily the young white guy I saw passed out face down on the corner of Central & University wasn’t dead. He was smack in the middle of the sidewalk with a guitar case on his back and I thought for sure he was in need of medical attention. When I parked at the 7-11 I was a little nervous that he might be on angel dust or something so I approached him cautiously. “Hey! Are you all right?” I asked. “Do you want me to call the paramedics?” The scruffy looking man, probably in his late twenties, opened his eyes and asked me to help him up. I debated whether I could catch a disease from doing so before deciding to help him. At least he wasn’t dead or dying. That was a good thing, but when I lifted him up I knew he wouldn’t stay standing for long. “You’re going to fall. You’re going to fall!” I told him right before he tripped on the curb and fell back into the rocks on the edge of the 7-11. “Just rest it off,” I told him before smiling at the woman in the SUV who saw the whole ordeal. After getting back into my car I drove all the way home and parked near the curb before deciding that would be enough for the night. Then I went offline . . .