It's Mine...My Precious...

9/1/18
I made pretty good money driving in a larger suburban area last weekend, so this weekend I tried it again. I headed out early to get some ice cream, meandered down there and got my evening coffee to see me through. I prefer a medium iced coffee with cream and Splenda. It sees me through the dark times as does Donna Summers.

retrieved September 2, 2018 from youtube.com

I have only been driving for Lyft, and now Uber, for about a month. It has taught me more about driving, finding my way, and reminded me about things I had forgotten about dealing with customers in my other life as a retail assistant manager.
Some things have become abundantly clear.
Let me weave this picture for you.
I picked up one of my riders at a mansion. Yes, a mansion. It was hard to find because it was not visible from the road. The rider's nephew walked down the drive describing the front driveway because the location pin was dropped a little further down the road in the app. He was a genial and attractive (I notice these things) man and we started chatting right away.
I pulled up the cobblestone drive and blurted out, "Oh my god, are we at Liam Neeson's house?" (Note: No. I have no idea where Liam Neeson lives. Qui Gon Jinn was just the first guy to pop into my mind.)
You see these kinds of houses on "The Lifestyles of the Rich and Shameless": manicured lawns and hedges, columns, a foyer with a fifteen foot ceiling with a teardrop chandelier, and a white Mercedes parked in the drive. It dripped money. It oozed wealth and tax avoidance. All of a sudden, I felt very under dressed and under...automobiled? We'll go with that.
The nephew explained that he had been at this man's barbecue (what did they barbecue? kobe beef steaks?) and he hoped this man would invest in a project of his devising. He told me that the inside was even more amazing than the outside. I really wanted to see the inside of that house, even though after Dubai it would probably be a pale imitation of truly insane wealth. You can't compete with Dubai, Lord Moneybags.
The elderly lady whom we picked up at the top of the drive was very pleasant. Her nephew helped her in, and I turned carefully in this very narrow, cobble stoned driveway as the valets (yes, valets! hired just for that night!) looked on in horror as I drove on the grass. Hey, lackeys! Tell Lord Moneybags if he can afford this place, he could afford a wider driveway! The nephew assured me it was okay and encouraged me to go ahead and drive on the grass. My tires tiptoed over the grass as if they were crushing fresh dollar bills.
"I hope he still invests in your project after you told your Lyft driver to drive on his lawn,"I joked. We all got a good laugh...but I was kind of not joking. I hope he invests in that nice man's project.
The nephew and I swapped stories all the way to the city about our travels. He spent many years abroad, and his business often took him around the world. From his descriptions of his business habits, I can only assume this man makes twice what I do in a year if not more. I mean, if Lord Moneybags is the kind of investor he is after, yeah he probably does really well for himself!
He told me about Cyprus, a place I had heard so much about but have not managed to get there. It has a kind of Mediterranean romance about it.  I hope I do get there some day. He had a great sense of humor. We both had run ins with gypsies in our travels and lived to tell the tale. His aunt chimed in often, and we just had a really good time. I wondered briefly...nah, guys like him want jet setting eye candy, not sarcastic, witty, nerdy cat ladies.

I can dream.

 retrieved on September 1, 2018 from https://www.onlyexclusivetravel.co.uk/destination/greek-islands-cyprus

I dropped he and his aunt off at their location and we bid each other very pleasantly well. It was not lost upon me that this was one of the nicer neighborhoods in the city. Real estate is expensive there, and the brick houses are well maintained and quite lovely. I checked the app, and at that time in the city it was lighting up like Vegas. I was excited. I did not get to busy areas like this often and was hoping to get good rides and tips.
I did not have long to wait. Within a minute, I had another ride request only blocks away.
This ride was similar in that we had very animated conversation, but that is the only thing they had in common.
For the sake of my readers' ease and to eliminate confusion, I shall refer to my second rider as "B".
I picked up B only about five minutes away, but the change in neighborhood was clear. The houses got smaller, more unkempt, and in various states of disrepair albeit not too bad.
B made his way slowly to my car. He kind of ambled rather than walked. I had pulled as close to the curb as I could on such crowded streets. I verified his identity, and he slowly pulled himself into the car and got comfortable. I offered him water, made sure the car temperature was acceptable, and we got underway. It was going to be a long ride. B informed me that we were going to the north side of the city. I blinked a little, as that is probably the worst area of the city, but hey that was where the ride request went so off we go.
B was a very friendly, talkative man. It was not long before he started telling me about the daily health challenges he faces.
B has MS. He faces intense pain all day, every day. He lives in pain.
He goes to physical therapy, to see doctors, and has received very little in the way of solutions to his pain. His doctor recommends a visit to a neurosurgeon and a back brace. However, because of B's weight the surgery would be high risk with an 82% chance of B ending up in a wheelchair. To further complicate matters, B cannot exercise to lose the weight. He has done his best with diet changes and is doing the stretches as recommended by his physical therapist. I encouraged him to keep plugging away at it and hopefully that will reduce his risk.
He sounded so beat down, but expressed how appreciative he was of his nieces' help. They are his daily carers, both physically, emotionally, and financially. He could not say enough how much he loved them for their help. B also told me all of the things he misses, like cooking at family holidays. He can no longer even cook for himself. I only hope that one day he can do those things again.
It turns out B's biggest challenge is social security. His own doctor has stated that B is unable to stand for over a minute or two, cannot walk over a block, let alone hold down a job. The doctor who makes the recommendation for social security however says the exact opposite. He stated (according to B, he blatantly lied) on the paperwork to the court that B could stand up and sit down, dress himself, and walk several blocks to and from the bus stops. I could just feel B's frustration in his voice.
"Elena," he said on the verge of tears it sounded, "I don't know what to do. I worked all of my life and thank god I saved a little something so I have some savings. But what did I work all my life for? To get sick and lose all my savings to this? What can I do if the social security doctor is going to lie?"
I told him to get out to the polls in November, because the Republicans are going to further dismantle Social Security, Medicaid, and Medicare and make it near impossible for people to get help. He stated that he votes in every election, though it pains him to stand him in line at the polls.

Ever have those moments when you are just plum out of wisdom? Happened to me.

I could tell that B was just a wonderful, cuddly, warm guy. He was good natured and cared greatly for his family. In spite of his pain, he said he just kept at it every day trying to make himself better. It sucked. It really did. I wished I had some information, some strategy, just something that would help him out. I had nothin'.
Now, as we drove the neighborhoods got more and more rundown. Think of any movie ghetto you have ever seen. Except these are real. Graffiti, abandoned cars, crack houses, people loitering on corners. You get the idea. Now, you may think that these neighborhoods are full of  low income druggies, single mothers on welfare, and gangbangers. You're wrong. B, and a whole bunch of other good people who struggle, live there too. This is where I dropped B off.
B is a wonderful guy, and he bid me a cheerful goodnight. I stayed until he got to the doorway, and then I locked the doors and took off because the two guys on the stoop were eyeing my car and I in a way that made me...want to drive away very fast. Maybe I'm profiling. But maybe I'm not. I was so out of there and drove with my pepper spray in my hand watching all windows at red lights. I did not feel comfortable until I was on the expressway out of the city. Overreacted, you say? Perhaps. Perhaps not.
On the expressway, I turned the app to my earnings so I could rate B and the nice aunt and her  handsome nephew.
What? He was! Leave me alone.
 Having explained and described my riders in great detail, I'll just put this here: The aunt tipped me $1 for a forty five minute $20 ride. B, on his meager savings, tipped me $2 for an $11 ride twenty five minute away.
...
Maybe I was tired, but all of a sudden I was incensed.
I was pissed.
Don't get me wrong. The nephew and his aunt were wonderful, lovely, gracious people and the following rant has nothing to do with them. I think the $1 tip was a generation gap thing being that she was well over seventy and B was just fifty. I myself was taught to tip between 15-30% depending on the type and level of service. Tipping is inconsistent in ridesharing on the best of days. Heck, half the time people don't tip the drivers at all.
But something about that $1 tip just blew up in my face and highlighted a hot button issue that my man Bernie keeps shouting about. It just had not been so clear and real until right then.

He's like if Doc Brown from "Back to the Future" and Snow White had a baby.

 retrieved on September 2, 2018 from http://time.com/4272885/bernie-sanders-bird-podium/

It made me think of the wealth inequality in this country. The top 1% have the majority of the money, real estate, and best of everything money has to offer, while the rest of the country carries most of the crippling debt while their wages stagnate. Their kids go to the best colleges and have every opportunity wealth can buy, whereas the middle class incurs huge debt sending their kids to colleges to get degrees required by so many companies and end up with jobs that do not pay enough to pay back that debt in reasonable time. The best parts of our lives are spent with every decision revolving around how it affects the paying off of that college debt.
They keep taking more and more and give so little in return. They extort tax breaks from cities with the promise of jobs and adding the to local economy if the city will let them do business there practically for free. They got billions in tax breaks last year, and yet wages overall did not improve. Google it! (From reputable sources, of course.) The investors bought more stock and trickled that tax break down to the only place money trickles down to which is to their shareholders, not their workers.
How much do they want?
They sit at the tops of their shiny executive buildings Googling vacation houses, buying yachts, and building $10,000 chicken coops because that's the hot trend among the rich folk until they get bored and feed their chickens to their other exotic pets. I have had so many riders that make great money and yet tip paltry sums if they tip at all.
Need that fiver for the gold plating on your toilet seat, do you?
They sit on their piles of wealth like voracious, greedy dragons on their hordes, unwilling to part with a single damn coin or divvy out any part of the mountain of treasure they have stolen. More, more, more! We wants more! It's mine! My own...my precious...

Did anyone else just see some hobbits run past? Something about a ring...

retrieved on September 2, 2018 from https://giphy.com/gifs/the-lord-of-rings-return-king-gollum-ie8I61aEWnJCM

People like me, a teacher with a Master's degree and ten years teaching experience are forced to work until 4am driving for Lyft or Uber on weekends in order to pay off debt and build up any kind of savings. Teachers at my school tutor, wait tables, coach sports, sell Lululemon, and peddle fancy teeth whitening toothpaste because our salaries are not enough. This is on top of the many hours we put in additionally to our time at school. B is unable to work and is dependent on family while being denied the assistance from the system he has paid into with his taxes his entire life.
The current administration just denied federal workers a pay increase saying they just do not have the money. You would, you damn jackasses if you would make that 1% pay their fare share instead of handing them billions in tax breaks! My god! We'd be able to insure everyone in the country with the money they skip out on in taxes every year by dodging, extorting, or hiding money in the Cayman Islands or the Maldives! You complain that we have the highest corporate taxes of any country (not true!), when in fact due to state and city tax breaks so many corporations in fact pay little to no taxes at all.
I'm lookin' at you, Amazon!

Goddamn it.

I shall now get down off my soapbox.

I will not often bore you with a tired, elderberry wine soaked diatribe as I wax rhapsodical about the problems of our economy and the evils of the wealth gap. I merely had a frustrated, exhausted moment last night where I was reminded how real it is.

And how important it is that every single one of us make it to the polls in November.

For me.

For you.

For B.