Dear Uber,
I love you. The end. What else can I say? I mean, what’s not to love? When my friends in Chicago first told me about you a year ago, I honestly thought you sounded too good to be true. I was wrong. You’re a taxi, car service personal driver all in one.
Let’s see… I press a button on my phone and even though I have no idea what street I’m actually on half the time, you find me anyway. Rain, snow, hail, sleet, you’re there for me. If my kids miss the bus – no problem. There you are. When my parents come to town, and it’s raining cats and dogs, and there is not a Yellow cab to be had in all of Manhattan, you’re there. When I have to pick up my son – and 4 of his friends – at 11:00 at night after a Bat Mitzvah (have I told you my son has a way more exciting social life than I do?), well, you’re there and you don’t even mind making 4 different stops.
Oh, and all of your drivers? My new BFFs. In the past few months of being an Uber groupie, I have been offered cold water, gum, soda, mints, a cough drop, tissues, and a Hershey’s Kiss. If that’s not true love, then what is?
Sincerely,
Heather
P.S. One last declaration of love. The ability to request car seats in many of your cars. Brilliant, Man. Just. Plain. Brilliant.
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