This is a happy story about a corporation you probably hate.
Stick with me here. You’ve got to get through some tough stuff.
First, there were the tears — just two. My son Gus, 22, is autistic and preternaturally cheerful; I hadn’t seen him cry since he was a baby. Even when he held his father’s hand as he died, there was deep sadness but also understanding, and no tears.
This was different. Something bad had happened with no explanation. Gus had just been kicked off his beloved car app, Uber. And nobody at the company would say why.
“I always give five stars,” he whispered. “I always tip.”
This is 100 percent true. Also true is that I can’t leave my phone unattended, because if I do, he breaks into my Uber and Lyft accounts and makes sure I’ve given the drivers five stars — then he doubles their tips.
Gus is obsessed with these apps and their drivers. For one thing, the rides provide exactly the right amount of social engagement for someone who loves strangers but finds it hard to sustain long conversations. Hi, how are you? Where are you from? There, done. You’ve connected.
And riding in an Uber is his version of birding. Gus is always on the lookout for unusual cars and “rare” drivers. His perfect ride-service experience would be getting into a Tesla with a driver who is from Nepal — and a woman. That would be pretty much the equivalent of spotting a cerulean warbler in Central Park.
