Like most people, virtually every time I’ve gotten out of a car it’s been no-nonsense and worry-free. I just get out of the car and walk over to my destination. But yesterday when I was taking a Lyft home from a friend’s house while I was holding a tote bag, I wasn’t sure if I would even make it out alive. That’s right: I exited a car while simultaneously holding a bag.
I’m still reeling from the experience.
Getting into the Lyft was, deceptively, a breeze. Even though I was holding a bag, I could still step into the car and put my tote on the seat next to me, without a care in the world. But little did I know it wouldn’t be so easy getting out of the rideshare when I got to my house.
I’m lucky to even be writing this story down today.
When the driver pulled up to my drop-off spot, I thanked him and grabbed my bag to exit the vehicle, but once I tried to move my arms and legs to get out of the car, everything went to absolute shit.
It seemed like every time I moved any part of my body, my tote bag would move even more: dangling off my shoulder, falling off, and spilling everything inside of it each step I tried to take.
Was this God’s way of punishing me for being a woman, or that time I forgot to feed the goldfish I won at a carnival? I still don’t know, but it definitely seems like it.
At a certain point, my Lyft driver even tried to intervene when he saw how bad I was struggling. At this point, I’d been trying to get out of the car for 25 minutes straight.
As if struggling to get out of a car with a tote bag wasn’t bad enough, I also had someone watching every almost-step I took, and putting things back in my bag just to watch them all fall out again.
About an hour later, I finally made it out of the car. But when the Lyft sped away, I realized that I left my phone, wallet, and keys behind, along with any confidence I had left.
Next time, I’m biking.
