I was using Lyft to get to the airport. This was a quick business trip while Bonnie stayed home. If I expect to do a lot of walking at my destination, I usually take my walker — and Bonnie and I both use it. This time, though, I was alone and wasn’t expecting a lot of walking, so I left it at home.
Sitting in the back seat, I saw a sign telling me the driver has mostly received perfect (5 out of 5) ratings and that my comfort and safety were his highest concern. And, of course, tips are greatly appreciated. I didn’t mind the sign. The driver is running a business and doing what he can to improve his profits. If his sign accomplishes that, good for him.
As I exited the car at the airport, before I was completely out of the back seat, the Lyft driver started to pull away. It was a compact car and I’m six feet tall, and it takes me a while to exit in that situation. The right rear tire clipped my right heel. When it happened, I didn’t know if I was injured or not — but I was angry that the driver didn’t wait until I was completely out of the car. I look my age, more or less, and it’s not breaking news that seniors are slower and sometimes clumsier at doing things than younger people are.
The driver stopped immediately. I yelled at him and he kind of looked at me and shrugged. I might have slammed the door a bit more forcefully than I usually do and went into the terminal. I didn’t notice any pain as I walked.
I figured this was a one-off mistake on his part and that he didn’t mean to injure me. There had been minimal conversation in the car and nothing for him to get mad at me about. I surmised that if I reported this, he would suffer consequences. Having a “black mark” on your record is never a good thing.
I debated with myself whether or not to report it. Was his error big enough to warrant him getting a black mark? Rightly or wrongly, I decided it was. Had he immediately jumped out of his seat to make sure I was okay, and apologized profusely along the way, I might have decided differently. But his indifferent “s@%t happens” shrug struck me the wrong way. He seemed to be in a rush to get to his next fare and my welfare was my own problem.
Although I didn’t seem to be injured immediately, if some lingering pain showed up, I wanted a record of the incident.
I didn’t have a lot of time before my flight took off, so I waited until I started to get texts when I was near my destination airport before I did anything. Lyft sent its standard: “Did you enjoy your ride? Rate Antonio’s performance from one to five. How much of a tip do you want to leave Antonio?”
There was a space to write an extended comment, so I wrote that he started to drive away before I was totally out of the car and his tire clipped my foot.
Lyft offered me the chance to chat via text with one of their reps to get this problem resolved. I could have spoken to a live person had I wanted to, but I was still on a full plane and would be for a few more minutes, so I opted for the text chat.
I explained what had happened. I inferred that the rep was female, although I could be wrong. She asked me if I was injured? “I’m not sure,” I replied. “I’m not in pain now, but right now I’m still on the plane. I’ll know more after I walk to baggage claim, and I’ll know even more tomorrow.”
She told me she had contacted the driver and he and I would be separated from him in the system — presumably meaning he would never be my driver again. I don’t know if what other repercussions, if any, Antonio faced.
She kept pressing me to declare myself okay — and I kept demurring. “I need more time.” She gave me a deadline to keep texting or the claim would be declared resolved, I waited until a minute before the deadline and said I still needed more time.
By now, a different rep had been assigned to the case and needed time to orient herself with the situation. That agent never got back to me.
The next day I received a text message from a lawyer representing Lyft. Apparently, a claim had been opened, and she was there to find out the status of my injuries — and whether or not I was going to sue.
I decided to wait for a few days to see if any lingering pain existed. So I temporized with, “I’m consulting a lawyer about this. I will give him your contact number and the claim number.”
As I write this, it is a week after the incident, and I have no physical pain whatsoever from the incident. “No harm no foul,” as announcers are fond of saying in basketball.
Except there was a foul. Antonio drove away too hastily and I could have been hurt – or worse. The fact that I wasn’t was fortunate.
But since I’m not injured, I’m not going to sue either Antonio or Lyft. That sounds like way too much hassle and since I wasn’t hurt badly, a judge (or jury) wouldn’t likely award me very much, if anything. I could fake injury, of course, but that’s not my style at this time of my life. Back when I was “hurting for money,” possibly I would have used some trickery in order to get some cash, I’m not sure, but not today.
Lyft, of course, is ultimately responsible, but this was a freak incident that could have just as easily happened to Uber or any cab company. So, I’m still going to utilize Lyft to get back and forth to the airport. But I probably will start saying, “I’m slow” when I exit the back seats of cars.
Ironically, had I taken my walker with me this never would have happened. The driver would have been forced to get the walker out of his trunk (or wherever he had stored it), and by that time I would have been well out of the car.
