The Adventures of Jake
The 91-year old Uber Enthusiast
It’s tough to call ‘time’ on the 91-year-old who takes Ubers.
My parents wish is to die at home. My Mom got hers granted 18 months ago. But time has run out for Pops and it’s sad. For such an independent guy to have to move to assisted living is not easy for him, nor us. He recently suffered a stroke and is in rehab. He begs me with his best puppy dog eyes to let him go home again. But that’s no longer possible, he needs too much help.
My Dad drove until he was 88. It wasn’t smooth sailing. My favorite Jake story is when at 85 he was driving home from the horses. He was cruising down I-495 South where it begins to get congested in the right lanes before traffic merges onto I-290. Not the best at using his directional OR using his mirrors before merging, he ended up crashing his Nissan Altima into a tractor trailer truck. Car totaled; Jake refused the EMT’s offer of a ride to the E.R.
“Fuck that, call me a cab,” he demanded.
So, with his winnings from the track, he took a cab home and told his wife he totaled another car.
His One Day with a Cellphone
He begged me for a cellphone at 85. He was relentless in his pursuit. Every single time we spoke he listed reasons why it was time to have a cellphone.
His arguments were sound. What if he fell? What if he needed to get in touch with us?
But I know him. I know he can’t handle a cellphone. He won’t have it one day and he will total another car answering his cellphone.
But he kept at it. Asking. Convincing. Arguing. So, against my better judgement, Jake got his cellphone.
The next day I got a call on my cellphone.
“Ann Marie?” he asked.
“Yes,” I responded.
“Its your father. I’m in the E.R. but I’m fine,” he said calmly. “I crashed the car, so they made me get checked out.”
“Don’t tell me. Your phone rang when you were driving to Dell’Ovo’s and you tried to answer it.”
“Exactly,” he said proudly.
“So, are you all set with having a cellphone?” I asked hopefully.
“Yes. You were right. I can’t handle it. Can you come and get me at the hospital? I totaled another car.”
“Yup, I’ll leave now, “I sighed.
Last Hurrah
My Dad’s final accident occurred on his own street about a quarter of a mile away. He claims he stopped and looked both ways at the Stop sign but once again for good measure, he totaled another car. That was the final straw. It’s not that he wanted to stop driving, mind you. It’s that his insurance costs were so astronomical from totaling cars that he could no longer afford to drive.
I don’t remember exactly how he got turned on to Uber. I just know explaining an app to an 88-year-old is no easy task. We were called constantly. My sons made multiple trips to Pops’s house to troubleshoot. Sorry to the Uber drivers who were ordered by accident. After a week of stops and starts, Pops finally figured out how to Uber, watch out world!
And so, he Ubers. He gets picked up at 2:15 to go to the Gold Star Diner for breakfast. At 2:15 pm. for breakfast. You see, Jake is a night owl. Up all night, sleep all day. While he enjoys his omelet, roast beef hash and toast with no butter, most have eaten lunch. The good souls of the diner take turns driving home for which he “dukes ’em a fin.” In other words, he tips them $5 for the lift home.
Cat Problems
Alex is one of the good-hearted employees of the diner. He often drives Jake home. Perhaps because of time spent with Jake, Alex had recently totaled his car, so he was driving Jake in his new (used) truck.
Jake told Alex all about his “fucking cat” he needed to turn over to the animal rescue league.
“The goddamn cat shits all over the house! He’s always meowing and one of these days I’m gonna trip over him and kill myself,” he complained.
Alex laughed while pulling into Jake’s driveway.
“Wait right here,” Jake demanded. “I’ll be right back. I’m going in the house to get the cat and you can drive me to the animal rescue league.”
“Jake, I am NOT driving you to the animal rescue league!” shouted Alex. “You just went on and on complaining about your cat that shits all over your house. I am NOT letting you put your shitting cat in my new truck!”
“For Christ’s sake, I’ll duke you a fin,” Jake replied.
“Call an Uber, Jake, I’m not taking you,” Alex said, finally.
So, Jake called an Uber. The Uber driver arrives to see Jake in his front yard chasing the cat across the lawn. My Dad walks like Frankenstein these days since he fractured his hip a few years back. Of course, he won’t use a walker or a cane, God forbid he looks “old” at 91. The Uber driver gets out to see if he can be of any assistance, probably thinking this old guy needs to get his cat in the house so he can get to where he is going.
“Can I give you a hand, sir?” he asked kindly.
“Yeah, grab the cat and fling it in your car. I need to bring him to the animal rescue league,” Jake states.
“Um, Sir?” the shocked driver asked. “That’s not how Uber works. I can’t take you in the car with a cat who isn’t in a case. Do you have a case?”
“Nah, I don’t need a case. Just fling the cat in the car,” he tried again.
“That’s not going to be possible, Sir,” said the driver.
“Jesus Christ!” Jake declared.
And so, Jake and his cat went back inside his house. Jake called the animal rescue league and recounted his bad luck with his rides to their location. So, the kindhearted souls who answered his call came and picked up the cat for Jake saving Alex’s new truck and the Uber driver’s sanity.
