As Dee approached my car, I groaned internally. The hardest part of this job is turning down rides… which I do all the time to anybody under 18 without a parent. Lyft’s terms of service require you to be at least 18. If a minor rides alone, it violates TOS, and they’re doing so without insurance.
Dee was a petite young lady with a baby face who looked like she was 13. “Dee, how old are you?”
“23!” She said, beaming.
<in disbelief> “Can I see some ID? You look so young…”
Sure enough, she showed me her driver’s license and she was 23. We proceed with the ride as normal heading towards UCLA. In my head, I’m doing the math… “Wait, Dee, did you already graduate from college?”
“Yeah, I’m working full time now…” I found out Dee was on her way to work two hours late because fuck her boss. “I don’t even care. I hate her. She makes me work overtime without paying me. She emails me on weekends to do work for free. When I make a mistake, she always complains because nothing is ever good enough for her. She really makes me feel bad about myself, saying things like ‘I’m useless.’ I’m so over that place. I can’t wait to quit.”
“Dee, there’s so much anger in you…” :O
“Yeah, I’m either raging or crying. Today you get the ranting…”
Dee, if you’re reading this, I hope you find a new job soon. That sounds like a toxic work environment. I’d probably be angry too if the world thought I was 13 when I was 10 years older… except when I’m 40 and everyone thinks I’m 30. That’ll be nice.