Dec. 14--I had just suffered through a string of cologne-filled taxi rides, odors so strong I got nauseated.
But I needed to get from Roscoe Village to Hyde Park fast.
Cabs rarely drive down my leafy, residential street, and the nearest taxi on my Uber app was seven minutes away.
So I caved.
I UberX'ed.
I used an app on my iPhone to hail a random car driven by a random guy. There would be no barrier walling off the back seat.
When I lived in Baltimore, before technology gave "ridesharing" an air of respectability, this was called hacking. And it was illegal.
People would stand on curbs and corners, motioning quickly with one downturned index finger, as if they were rapidly pecking away at a computer key. It was the universal symbol that one wanted an unregulated, cheaper ride somewhere.
It was a pervasive part of life in Baltimore but I was too afraid to participate.
Hi. Thanks for the ride. What's your name?
John.
Last name?
Gacy.
That's what I imagined.
Until I didn't.
On Dec. 1, almost two years to the day after hailing my first taxi using Uber, I talked myself into hacking, in the name of convenience and the hope of a better smelling vehicle. I got both.
UberX is uprooting the taxi industry across the country because it's cheaper -- 40 percent cheaper in Chicago, according to the company -- and its fleet is often more readily available than traditional taxis. But it has not destroyed the taxi industry (yet) because of the presumption that anything unregulated is less safe.
Recent incidents have fanned that perception. Chicago police are investigating an UberX driver accused of sexually assaulting a female customer in Lincoln Square last month. New Delhi banned the service after a passenger accused a driver of rape.
But I continue to use the service because the best way to ensure my safety has nothing to do with who's driving and everything to do with whether I'm wearing a seat belt. I wear seat belts in my own car, but confess I am inconsistent in taxis.
Not anymore.
Second, I had a close friend, Eva Penar, who vouched for ridesharing.
"I live in a neighborhood where a cab is hard to find," she said during an informal focus group I formed over lunch this week. "I use it as long as I'm in a neighborhood I'm familiar with, because sometimes UberX drivers don't always know directionally where they are."
Ever had a bad experience?
"A driver asked me out once."
Everyone at the table erupted in laughter. Is that a bad thing or a good thing? She settled on "bad," but it took her a moment.
The only difference I've observed is that UberX drivers seem more talkative. Two of my lunch guests said they knew an UberX driver who signed up with Uber to meet people. (Turns out they were talking about the same person.)
Another shared the story of a friend who was stunned to find a friend's son behind the wheel working for extra cash while in college.
Less weathered (and less jaded) equals more talkative, apparently.
Three in the lunch group, comprising one man and eight women, had never used UberX.
Three, including me, are active users.
One had used UberX but now only uses Lyft, a competing app, because that provider lets her ride up front and she gets carsick in the back, she said.
Another quit using UberX after he felt "weird about it on so many levels."
Another quit after having "two really bad drivers."
But all seemed to grasp that a background check isn't going to keep them safe no matter how they find their rides. (California prosecutors have accused Uber of exaggerating its background checks.)
And they seemed to appreciate that UberX creates a digital trail. At a minimum, the company is going to know whose car you last jumped in, when and where.
All also seemed to have had far worse experiences on the "L," notably involving indecent exposure.
"It just smells," added one.
Bad odors, we agreed, can be quite motivating.
mmharris@tribpub.com
Twitter @chiconfidential
