My passenger yells at me for 30 minutes straight

“Here when you’re ready”

I press send on the message just as I pull into your street because I’ve learned that the mobile signal near your apartments is hopeless, so I need to send the message before I have zero bars. Besides, that usually gives me enough time to turn around before you're outside and ready to get into my car.

This morning, however, you’re already there waiting for me. You see me and give me that smile and enthusiastic wave which instantly lightens my mood. I mean, how could I be grumpy when I’m seeing such exuberance?

You get in the passenger seat and your positivity follows you. “Morning”, you exclaim as you put that oversized backpack in at the same time you try not to spill your coffee. I try to match your level of enthusiasm, with my own “Good morning”. This is the way that my mornings now start a couple of times a week.

From there it’s pretty much a potluck on how the journey will go. Well, not the direction, that’s stock standard, from your place to work, there aren’t many different routes I can go. Of course, that doesn’t mean that on occasions you haven’t forgotten where we were and found your horrible sense of direction kicking in. The potluck is what conversation topics we will have until I drop you off.

We do spend the bulk of our time talking about work, either yours or mine. Because you are so passionate, it often ends up in you venting about poor work practices or the people that are less than professional. We get to your work and inevitably you apologize for yelling at me for the last half an hour or you say that you feel bad about me having to go out of my way to drop you off.

Here’s the thing, I know I’ve told you this a lot, but it is genuinely my pleasure.

I don’t have many people that I spend a lot of time in person with. Our conversations leave me with a smile on my face, sometimes my cheeks are sore from smiling so much. Of course, you will occasionally drop in an insult here or there, either about me being old or having grey hair or having bad fashion sense. I don't mind and not so secretly enjoy you ribbing me!

Dropping you to work usually adds an additional 35 minutes to my commute each morning, but here’s the thing, it is often, hands down, the best 35 minutes of my day. I can start the day with a smile, especially over the last few months, smiles have been in short supply during my workdays. So, an extra 35 minutes in the car, especially when that time’s with you is a godsend.

It’s not a one-way street when it comes to providing advice. I give you my thoughts on things and you give me yours. Some of your advice has been so spot-on and has encouraged me in so many areas. I write now because you gave me the boost I needed. You helped encourage me to walk away from a lousy job because you saw how it was affecting me.

I’ve come a long way from when I first met you, I can now look at you for extended periods of time. The positive about me driving is that I can’t just sit there and stare at you. That would inevitably freak you out.

But I get a decent amount of time to talk to you, listen to you, and selfishly spend some time alone with you.

I’m grateful that you let me have that time. I hate it when I can’t drop you off, or when you aren’t going into the office. But the bonus days are when I get to drive you home as well. Two trips in one day of you yelling at me is way better than just one.

I can hear about your attempts to pick up your motorbike on your own after you dropped it, or the job you got in television that didn’t last very long, or that long-lost child you adopted out (I know you say that didn’t happen but, come on you can tell me). I get to educate you on country music, or tell you tales from when I was a cop, or tell you that I’m definitely not going to abduct you.

I get to be your Uber driver, and I’m remunerated with laughter, smiles, and positive feelings.

Thank you