Not all my conversations are poignant commentaries on a society in moral decline. Most riders like to chat, at least a little, and some riders are more conversant and entertaining than others. As I drove a high school football coach to his hotel, he explained his school’s philosophy. They didn’t always win, and the coaching staff didn’t have winning ensconced as their highest moral virtue.

His sports program committed to building kids character, even if it meant benching inconsistent, talented kids and playing second stringers who showed up on time and practiced every day.

“Hard work beats talent when talent won’t work hard.”


Thirty five year-old Alexa finished putting on her face in the parking lot. She paused before heading into the restaurant for her day’s second shift.

“All the twisting, moving, bending I do, sometimes when I get home I can’t even move. I think waitresses age in dog years.”


My backseat was full, overstuffed by one as we headed into downtown. The five friends bantered back and forth, and Stephanie broke the temporary lull as she gazed into her guy’s eyes.

“Will you marry me?”

“I love your boobs,” he replied with a grin.

Whoever says men and women are the same never drove an Uber.