I said “What?” because I think I knew
what he said but just wanted to make sure.
“This ain't much money, man. What did
you do with the money you made in here?” He asked.
“I don't know, candy bars I guess.” I
answered, not wanting to get into how it really pissed me off that we were
expected to save all the pennies they payed us rather than enjoying a few nice
things once in a while. The poor, especially a poor con does not deserve
anything nice I guess. But I did not reveal my true feeling. Just because I was
being early released I wasn't taking any chances by picking a fight I couldn't
win.
“Well, Two hundred and eighty six bucks
ain't going too far. Maybe you got a stash waiting for you?” he hinted.
I glanced at the clock, 12:17 PM,
already 17 minutes past my release time.
He noticed my anxiety and took pity on
me saying, “I think your ride is here” after he glanced out the window. He
handed me the envelope with the check and a packet with my paperwork and
pointed to the door as I heard the buzzer and the lock click open. The bastards
paid by check now, they used to give you cash. Now out of spite, knowing you
would have trouble cashing it and likely have to give a good chunk away to some
liquor store, they gave you a check. I wondered how many never got cashed.
My sister and brother in law were
waiting for me across the street in brand a new car. “Jump in the back” Jeff,
said through the open window. Once inside my sister June, reached her hand back
to squeeze mine by way of greeting and asked, “Don't you have any luggage?”
“Nope, just me.” I replied.
“What are you going to wear?” she added.
“I got some stuff stored at Moms.” I
reassured her and quickly added to change the subject, “Nice car. What's that
map thing on the dash?”
“That's Waze, it's like Map Quest.”
Jeff answered. “Jeff is an UBER driver.” June added, “that's how he knows where
to go.” I didn't fully understand but figured it was just one of many things I
would learn over time.
“What's Uber?” I asked.
“It's like a taxi or limo service, only
different.” Jeff replied.
“Where's the meter?”
“No meter.” he replied. “It's all handled
over the I Phone.” he offered as further confusion.
“You ever get robbed?” I questioned,
being in the business, that was the first thing that occurred to me.
“No, we don't handle any cash. The
rider pays with a credit card with their phone when they request a ride.” He
further explained, “We get a text message with the destination and the name of
the rider which we punch into the map and go pick them up, they have my name
and that's all there is to it.”
“That seems kind of risky!” I remarked,
my mind searching for the possible angles to exploit. “How do they know you're
not some creep?”
He pointed to the decal on the window,
the one I thought was a lucky horse shoe, “They see the U and I roll down the
window and offer my name which came up on their phone along with the model of
car I'm driving and ask are you so and so? Then I verify the address as I punch
it into Waze. Everything is cool.”
“So, how do you get paid?”
“I get a check every week.”
“If there's no meter, how do you know
what to charge?” I asked as I watched our progress on the screen which showed
us moving through traffic on our way to their house thinking, this is just
crazy.
“It's all predetermined and agreed to
before either of us accept, it's all done with computers. If it's a peak time,
the rate goes up and it depends on how far you are going.”
“So, did you have to buy a Medallion
like a taxi driver?”
“No, no, they even helped me arrange to
buy the car and gave me the map app.” Once again I was not sure what he was
talking about, what's an app I thought to myself.
“Do you have to go to a special station
to get your gas?”
“I have to pay for the gas.” he added
with a hint of disgust in his tone. Ah I thought to myself, the first chink in
the wall. “Gas is pretty cheap right now, right around $2.50 a gallon so that's
not too bad.” “When gas goes up, you're supposed to get higher fares to cover
the difference.”
You poor sap I thought to myself, bet
Mr. Uber doesn't give a shit about gas prices, he gets his first no matter
what.
“How much do you make in tips?”
“Nothing, no tips allowed.”
“Well, how's this working out for you,
you making good money?” I was secretly hoping this was a good deal and a
potential for me without expecting that to be the case.
“It's a big problem for us drivers
right now. It used to be better, but then we got competition from Lyft and the
company keeps cutting the rates, messing with the split. They are even hinting
that in two years they are shifting to driver-less cars to get rid of us
altogether.” he complained.
After all this negative information my
ever upbeat sister chimed in, “Maybe you could drive for Uber, too, you're
going to need a job?” Jeff quickly pointed out that that wouldn't work because
I don't have a car and no credit, plus a record of auto theft, no active
license, the list goes on and on. With that bit of depressing information we
finished the drive in silence. I was fascinated by the map screen showing our
car as we proceed through traffic and the other gadgets on the dash, gas
mileage, distance to our destination, time. I asked several more questions
mainly showing my ignorance of how the world worked and kept thinking if being
an Uber driver would work for me and at the same time what a chump Jeff was for
taking a job with so little control over what you could be paid. If he had to
take this job what were my chances of finding any job. The release councilor
had stressed that we should not get discouraged and keep a positive attitude
but I was already angry with my prospects and thinking about how to contact my
old acquaintances about some work.
June asked, “when do you have to see
your parole officer?”
“I don't have one” I replied and added,
“Early release is just that, early release.” She seemed shocked and could not
conceal her discouragement.
“So that's it, you're just on your
own?” I nodded yes.
After a minute she said, “You'll be okay
once you find a good job.” I just smiled and slumped back into the seat.
We pulled up in front of mom's old
house that just happened to be the other half of the duplex where Jeff and June
lived. It was just as she had left it when she went into the extended care
facility. Everything was covered by a layer of dust and smelled stale of old
furniture and old people. My dad had died before I went in and mom had lived
here along, except for my sister next door, for four more years until she had
the stroke and the fall. Ain't life grand I thought to myself as I looked
through my old closet for some things I had stashed there on my last free day.
Jeff had gone next door to their place but June was still looking at Mom's
belongings like she had never seen them before and jabbering away so I left my
hiding place for another time when I would be along. I sat on the edge of the
bed looking at my junk and thinking how sad this whole thing was, release was
even a letdown.
I got to stop eating this crap I
thought to myself as I worked on my second pint of Ben and Jerry's Pistachio
Pistachio I'd already gone through a store bought pie, a box of Ginger Snaps,
half a bag of chips, an entire bag of Frito’s, a big bottle of coke, several
beers and two trips to the In N Out on Victory. It's funny the things you miss
when you are in. Not funny ha ha, but funny odd. Funny how that word has two
different meanings. Funny both ways how I thought of that. Jesus, I was bored
already.
June stuck her head in the door and
shouted, “I'll be gone for a couple of hours, You okay?”
“Where's Jeff?” I asked. “He's working.
You can call him if your need something.”
“I'm fine. See you later.” I answered.
I watched her car go down the street
and went to the back of the laundry room door for the key to mom's unit and
headed over to check my stash. The stairs leading to the small utility basement
looked like they hadn't been used in years which was a good sign. I grabbed an
old crate to stand on and reached up behind the concrete pony wall at the back
of the foundation and felt for the shaving kit bag I had left there on my last
free day. The spider webs were creeping me out but the kit was still there.
Everything was still there, seven $100. bills, four $50.'s and the 9MM Glock I
stole from my ex partner when he got wasted. I stashed the kit under the bed
and headed to the hardware store for some 3 in 1 Oil so I could breakdown and
clean the gun. Not that I was hoping to use it anytime soon, but more than one
dumb-ass had ended up dead because he was too lazy to checkout a piece that
hadn't been used in years. Besides, the Uber thing was probably not going to
work, they didn't say no for sure, but would have to get back to me because of
my record. I hadn't really tried to find work except looking in the paper, the
job market sucked puddywater. That left “Sal's.”