Greg Schwem is a corporate comedian and business emcee who is always looking for cheap fares…in Uber and in life
Just as I was embracing the idea of letting strangers drive me around in their personal vehicles while having access to my credit card information, their employer comes along and screws it up.
Of course, I’m talking about Uber’s recent self-driving car rollout in Pittsburgh, an event that immediately angered the roughly 1.5 million people who have become Uber drivers. That figure may very well include retired congressman John Boehner, your daughter’s math teacher and possibly my 80-year-old mother. Lately I’ve been wondering why I can’t get hold of her between 9 a.m. and noon on Wednesdays and Fridays.
I’ve become an Uber convert, not so much for the convenience of hailing a ride via my iPhone but for the conversation. I’ve grown weary of trying to chat up cab drivers who resemble valuable museum artifacts, their physical beings shrouded behind bulletproof glass. Typical banter between a cab driver and myself on the way to the airport usually consists of the following:
ME: How long before we get there?
DRIVER: Whaaaat?
ME: When will we get to the airport?
DRIVER: You want to go to court? What did you do?
ME: Never mind.
Then Uber came along. I was greeted by friendly beings from all walks of life, happy to discuss anything from sports to child rearing to the new crop of original programming on Netflix. Warning to Uber drivers: Bringing up the election immediately lowers your review to two stars, maybe worse. I consider Uber to be my political “safe zone.”
While riding in Uber cars, I’ve met a Chicago woman paying her daughter’s college tuition by supplementing her home daycare operation with Uber income; the Salt Lake City millennial who ditched a tech startup to drive full time for Uber; and the soldier who had just completed his third, and final, tour of duty in Afghanistan. He broke the “no political discussion” rule, but I gave him five stars anyway. It’s the least I could do for a man with his service record.
Now comes word that soon, very soon, I won’t have to look for the ‘U’ sticker in the front window, letting me know my driver has arrived. Instead I’ll recognize the vehicle due to the plethora of roof-mounted cameras and sensors that allegedly can brake for a deer that just darted into the road. On first glance, the machinery looks like either the bridge or the top deck cocktail lounge of a cruise ship.
Those lucky enough to take the self-driving Ubers for spins in Pittsburgh weren’t by themselves; indeed, two Uber employees occupied the driver and front passenger seats, armed with laptops to record, I assume, any “oops” moments as in, “Oops, our self-driving vehicle just rear-ended a sanitation truck. All by itself!”
But Uber higher-ups say the ultimate goal is for customers to be the vehicle’s sole occupants. And then where will I be? All by my lonesome as the car ambles to whatever destination I typed into my phone. Unable to discuss the weather forecast or debate the Cubs’ chances in the playoffs.
Unless …
Unless Uber adds self-conversing technology, a feature that would allow me to have a conversation with computers, on the topic of my choice. I could punch the “sports” button and off we’d go.
ME: Think the Cubs are gonna do it this year?
UBER COMPUTER: If Arrieta returns to form then yes, I say Cubs will rule!
ME: You just got yourself five stars.
I’ll toggle over to “pop culture.”
ME: Have you heard Lady Gaga wants to headline the Super Bowl halftime show?
UBER COMPUTER: An empty field would be better than Katy Perry.
ME: Can I give you six stars?
See, Uber engineers? Self-conversing vehicles will keep me a happy customer, willing to remain loyal to your company as long as this conversational glitch never occurs.
ME: Looks like we’re going to have a sunny day today.
UBER COMPUTER: I agree. And all the days ahead will be sunny when Donald Trump becomes president.
ME: Please pull over. I need to exit the vehicle.
