My first time

It’s not that I’m technophobic (though I probably am), but whatever gene people have that makes them know how to use phones or computers, I never got. Sit me in front of a computer and I become like a lab rat trying to solve the New York Times Crossword. I’m probably not going to get very far. And don’t get me started on phones and apps and whatever the hell they’re supposed to do other than make calls.

Anyway, I had to go somewhere, and my husband was stuck in traffic an hour away…so he told me to use Uber.

Uber.

He told me, someone who doesn’t know how to switch from the regular camera to the selfie cam, to use Uber.

He texted me a link. Told me to click it and follow the instructions. Simple enough, right?

Cut to thirty-five minutes of back and forth on the phone with him as he tried to walk me through installing the app. I know it probably wasn’t supposed to take that long based on his growing frustration and the muffled cursewords I could sort of make out on the other end of the line.

But I finally got the app installed. And I saw all these cars driving around on the map. So I tried to order a car.

And I got a message. Your car is on the way.

Great.

Except, uh, shit — Did I say the right address to pick me up at?

I panicked. Clicked cancel.

Deep breath.

“I can do this.”

I ordered the Uber and —

Shit. Now it was definitely going to the wrong address.

I had no clue what I was doing. Cancel. Cancel. Cancel!

Deeper breath. I closed my eyes and visualized puppies.

I called the car a third time.

One minute and twenty-seven seconds later, the car pulled up.

I opened the back door to get in, wondering if I should have climbed in the front seat. I still don’t know the etiquette for that kind of stuff.

I sat down and the driver looked back at me.

And he said:

“You cancelled on me twice. Why did you cancel on me twice?”.

“I’m sorry, it’s a long story.” I said.

“Was it…” He paused. “Was it…because I’m black?” He asked with hurt in his eyes.

That was the first time I felt like the worst person in the world. That day, at least.

Dictated but not read. No way in hell I can figure out this online publishing stuff.