Couple nights ago. About 9 PM.

Jammies on. Headed for bed in a few minutes.

And an Uber driver five minutes from my front door.

“Noooooo!!” I shouted to my cat.

How’d the old man in the attic get himself into this one?

As age continues inexorably, the sitcom of life becomes more dramatic. S–t happens!!

Neuropathy has taken most of the feeling out of my braking foot. Twice in the last few weeks, my foot slipped off the brake in a parking lot. Once into an unoccupied golf cart. Warning Number 1. Once at about 2 mph into the rear of a legally parked car. Warning Number 2.

Nobody got hurt. I’m a nervous wreck.

Enuf warnings. After over 65 years of driving, I’m hanging up the car keys.

I’m used to just moseying out the door, hopping in the car and heading out wherever and whenever I pleased.

Now, I gotta use a f—–ing App.

Make that “Apps.”

Instacart brings me groceries. Amazon brings me everything else. And Uber is supposed to bring me.

Living better through smartphone apps.

Uber is now the one with the steep learning curve.

Say you have a 9 AM doctor’s appointment, 10 minutes away. To be safe, I request a ride at 8:15. 

He gets here in 5 minutes. I am 30 minutes early.

Wait till 8:30 to call, and this time I’m waiting a ½ hour for my driver. I’m late for that 9 AM. 

Oh what to do? What to do??

One solution, I was told, would be to schedule the ride the night before to arrive at my destination at the right time.

OK. The old man in the attic tried that.

I went on the App. Wanted a ride for the next morning. Clicked my destination. Thought I clicked on “Later.”

To my unhappy surprise, the app tells me the driver would be at my home to pick me up in 5 minutes.

Hence the “Noooooo!!”

I wanted to call the driver and cancel the ride, but was told I had to do it with the App.

Good freakin’ luck.

He ended up at my front door. I tried every which way to cancel. The only destination I had planned in my jammies was to my bed.

Bottom line. A $5 cancellation fee. And the driver lost some time and $$.

My car was a Godsend to escape my four walls. Which I need to do to keep sane in my widowerhood. (Guess that’s a word.)

So now, I’m a bit gun shy.  Would like to schedule rides for the future but ‘fraid I’ll fat-thumb it and inconvenience a stranger and embarrass myself. For the time being, I’ll just request as I need a ride and hope I have the time figgered right.

Lotsa doctor appointments. So I’ll get a lotta practice.

Enuf.