POEM: In An Uber

In an Uber

Being driven somewhere I can’t be bothered to drive myself

Poorly.

Taking all the wrong turns

Because they think they know a better route

Than the route their satnav tells them.

The route I would have taken myself

(Had I been bothered to get behind the wheel).

He worked in fish and chips for forty years;

His own business.

Dreamt of wrapping chips in his sleep

(When sleep would finally come).

Worked more hours than he should so he didn’t have to pay for extra staff.

Got his sons to work for free for him too.

Until the pandemic gave him an excuse

Not to wrap chips anymore.

“Been doing this two years now,”

He tells me,

“And never once have I dreamt I am driving.

I sleep eight hours a night”

He added,

“And get to go on holidays,

Weddings,

Funerals.

Best job I ever had.”

He drops me off near enough to my destination

After missing the final turn

While complaining about some “bastard”

Who complained about him that morning

For driving in the wrong lane.

I thanked him and tipped him generously.

Glad to learn his story.

And know he’s out there somewhere now

Working the best job he ever had

And getting better at it every day.