I love Uber. During a recent family trip to New Orleans, we took 10 Uber rides over five days, hopping in and out of strangers’ cars, zipping anywhere we needed to go at any time of day. Our friendly, efficient drivers regaled us with Mardi Gras stories, shared jambalaya recipes, and told us where we could buy the cherry-scented air freshener that was rocking my son’s world.
In fact, we became so comfortable in Ubers that once, while sitting in a backseat, I inadvertently locked eyes with the driver in his rearview mirror and realized — at the same time he realized it — that my finger was up my nose.
I know. I’m sorry. But as much as that grosses you out … it wasn’t even your car.