Clever driver
A Lyft driver story
To get from my mom’s house in Summerlin, Nevada to the Harry Reid International Airport in Las Vegas, I have two options. I could ask my mom, aka Lead Foot Linda, for a ride. Or, I could do something my mom told me never to do—get into a car with a stranger.
Despite what they say about “stranger danger,” I went with option two. The Lyft ride cost me $45, including tip, but it saved me from twenty minutes of terror, phantom breaking, and hanging onto the “oh shit handle” for dear life.
When I got into the Lyft, the driver asked me to confirm my destination.
“We’re going to the airport, right Michael?”
“Yup. Unless, you wanna drive me all the way back to Los Angeles.”
“If we do that, we’re gonna need to drive in shifts,” he said. “Also, snacks are on you, dude.”
“I’m happy to pay for snacks, but there’s not enough Jolt Cola at Eddie World to keep me awake.”
“Up all night partying?” he asked.
“More like, up early with the dawn patrol to drive my mom home.”
As my Lyft driver made his way onto the highway, I explained that my day had begun early that morning in Los Angeles.
“We made the trip in four hours,” I explained.
“Damn. You drive like a bat out of hell.”
I’ve never known a bat to flee hell faster than any other animal, but I took the compliment just the same. Also, because the Lyft driver looked like he was in his twenties, I decided not to ruin the mood with a joke about Meat Loaf. I’ll do anything for a laugh, but I won’t do that.
“Wait a minute,” the Lyft driver said. “If you drove your mom here and you’re flying back, aren’t you leaving your car in Vegas?”
“Nope. We took my mom’s car,” I said. “My car is at my house in LA, waiting for a new catalytic convertor.”
“Someone stole your catalytic convertor?” he asked.
“Yup. Twice in the past six months.”
“Twice! This crime wave is out of control.”
“Yeah, that’s the nature of crime waves, I think.”
“Man, that sucks, I’m sorry.”
“I didn’t tell you the shitty part yet. I’m on a waiting list for a new catalytic convertor. Supposedly, I’ll get the new part in May.”
“May!? What the fuck, man.”
“That’s what I said. Hopefully, the part gets here just in time for me to pass my smog test.”
“Oh shit. What happens if it doesn’t? You can’t drive it?”
“I can drive it now. My mechanic gave me a straight pipe.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s like a heart bypass for your car’s engine.”
“Are you a cardiologist?” he asked.
“No. Are you?”
“No, man, I’m a Lyft driver, and when I’m not driving, I’m studying business.”
“Right. So it’s exactly like a heart bypass for your car. And it works. Except, you belch out all this shit into the environment. More shit than your car normally belches out, I mean.”
“Oh, that’s fucked up.”
“Yeah, that’s why as soon as I get a new catalytic convertor, I’m selling the car.”
“What kind of car?”
“It’s a Prius.”
“How many miles?”
“About sixty thousand.”
“What year?”
“2015.”
“Would you sell it to me?” he asked.
“Would you want it? Before you answer, keep in mind that thieves specifically target the Prius because it’s so easy to steal the catalytic convertor.”
The Lyft driver gave it some thought, then asked me how much I wanted for my Prius.
“I’d be happy to take the Bluebook value,” I said. “But you seem like a nice dude, and I don’t want to put you in a jam.”
“I’m already in a jam. My car has too many miles on it. Lyft is gonna remove me from the platform soon. Every mile I drive is one step closer to the end.”
There was something poetic about how the Lyft driver put that, like we’re all on this long, strange trip, and while we don’t know where we’re going, or how long it’ll take to get there, we can be certain that our progress will one day lead us to the end of the line. But my Lyft driver wasn’t a poet with a side hustle, he was a business man who appeared to be in business to do business, so I asked him a business question.
“How many miles does this car have?”
“Two hundred and fifty thousand,” he said.
“Holy shit. If you hadn’t told me, I would’ve guessed it was brand new. You take really good care of this car.”
“Thank you. It’s my business, so you know I take care of it. Want to buy the car? I’ll make you a deal.”
“Tempting, but I’m looking for something with less mileage.”
“Maybe we trade cars. Plus, I’ll throw in free rides whenever you visit your mom in Vegas. It’ll be like you’re getting picked up in your own car, except it’s your old car.”
“Again, it’s tempting, but I don’t know if this is a good deal for either of us. I need a car with less mileage, and you need a car that isn’t a target for catalytic convertor thieves.”
“OK, let’s try this. The next exit is for the airport. But instead of the airport, I drive you home to LA. If we trade cars, I’ll comp you the ride. Deal?”
“Tempting. It’s a lot of fun chatting with you. And I appreciate the hustle.”
“Always being hustling.”
“Actually, it’s always be closing.”
“Right, right. The ABCs of business. Always be closing. So, what do you say?”
“Sorry, I’m gonna pass. But in the interest of transparency, I need to let you know why.”
“OK, give me the feedback,” he said. “Everything is a learning experience.”
“I’m passing because this is a bad deal for you. My Prius is a huge-ass liability.”
“Not for me. I got a garage. One man’s liability is another man’s asset.”
“Clever.”
“That’s my name, Michael.”
Stick around and chat!
You know the drill, situation normies. I have questions, you have answers.
Would you ever name a child “Clever,” and if so don’t you think that puts a lot of pressure on the kid?
Lyft, or Uber? Or, are you an old school taxi passenger?
Do you chat with your Lyft, Uber, or taxi drivers, or are you too busy reading Situation Normal on your phone?
Is there someone you love who drives like a bat out of hell? Name names.
Did I play this all wrong by side-stepping the opportunity to educate Clever about Meat Loaf and his oeuvre?
I learned everything I need to know about business by watching Glengarry Glen Ross. What are your business knowledge sources?
If you enjoyed this story, you should check out Ride/Share: Micro Stories of Soul, Wit and Wisdom from the Backseat by me👇
I should've added, the story does continue. Actually, it rolls into another story, which is sorta the story of my life. Anyway, you can read about what happened after Clever dropped me off at the airport.
https://open.substack.com/pub/michaelestrin/p/high-flier?r=1fqhx&utm_campaign=post&utm_medium=web
Great story, Michael!
1. I wouldn’t. I’m a man whose mother named Caron, so I learned my lesson early.
2. Either. I don’t know the difference.
3. If I’m alone in the back seat, I’m reading, either you or Dobrenko.
4. My wife used to drive like that, but that’s a story for my Substack, not yours, my brother.
5. I’m a boomer. Never pass up an opportunity to educate someone on anything that used to be.
6. I’m a terrible businessman, but I did once get a response to a fan letter I wrote to David Mamet. One of my two cherished autographs.