Taking UberPool in NYC is just never a good idea
Deep in Bushwick, itâs the middle of the night, and youâre a toxic combination of exhausted and tipsy. Wanting to get back to your apartment in Harlem, you are loathe to put whatâs left of your life at the mercy of the capricious, indifferent MTA. So, you opt for Uber, and while you could make believe youâre high society and order a car all for yourself, you just paid $50 for three drinks at a hipster cocktail bar. With that in mind, you select uberPoolâa whopping $6 less than a solo vehicle.
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After sliding into a car that wreaks of tacos and cologne, you immediately set off in the exact opposite direction of where you want to go. Heading to Harlem from Bushwick? Youâll have to backtrack to Bensonhurst, after which, still captive, you will bounce through time and spaceâthat is, Astoria, Alphabet City and Chelseaâlike a demonic game of Pac-Man. Naturally, when your ride isnât sitting in standstill traffic on the West Side Highway, itâs zigzagging through the streets of Greenwich Village at a speed that would make Danica Patrick carsick. To make matters worse, this somber, meditative hour now includes surge pricing, that dastardly upcharge which the devil himself created in the bowels of hell. In the end, you will not save any money at all.
As your dead-in-the-eyes driver blasts a psyops-worthy soundtrack of Baha Men deep cuts, your fellow uberPoolers donât help matters: A plastered NYU sophomore is yelling into her phone at her insane boyfri