#blogdraft

This past weekend two friends of mine were married on the East Coast and when it was time to go to the airport I called a Lyft rather than a taxi. The driver turned out to be one of the original drivers in my area (and a Lyft mentor). He's in sales and does one or two fares a week in his Mercedes SUV, and we spend the ride talking about ride-sharing and taskrabbit. 

When I landed I was told to stand in a line. I was going to the same part of town as the people in front of me and I wanted to jump in with them. No. The taxi guard, armed with a clipboard and walkie-talkie told me that their vans can only make one stop per ride -- even if I paid for the distance of the first stop. I ended up waiting another 10 minutes as a long line queued up behind me. When I finally placed my small suit-case in the trunk of the three-row van I told the driver the address. After getting off the interstate she asked me the address again and I found out she didn't know how to get there. I pulled out of my phone and was giving turn by turn navigation. When it came time to pay she used a carbon paper credit card slider to and had me scribble some chicken scratch onto a sheet of paper. Did I mention that during the ride calls where coming in about how more taxi's were needed back at the airport.