Today is our first trip up the mountain with paying customers. I’m excited. Not as nervous as I thought I’d be. Perhaps it’s because we were told we were hired based on our personalities. And I’ve spent my life pretending things are ok. Even when they weren’t. So I feel confident I can fake it if necessary.

The Uber ride to the rail yard definitely doesn’t make me feel confident, as the man is on the phone, speaker on, speaking a foreign language with someone that is listed in his contacts as “chicken for sale”. When he proceeds to miss the turn, I wonder if we will be the chicken.

He misses a turn, realizes he should not be on the phone and perhaps should look at the map. I’m busy creating stories in my head and replaying all the true crime podcasts I’ve heard. Derek is navigating for the driver, telling him which way to turn to get back on the route. The language barrier is definitely there.

As the driver gets back onto the right path, he turns left into oncoming traffic. He pulls into the right lane in plenty of time to avoid collision. But the chaos of the situation is not lost on me. This is where trauma comes in handy. These events don’t phase you.

He pulls into the rail yard, running stop signs and driving too fast. I am hoping he gets fined by the railroad.

As we get out of the car, I tell Derek to please rate the man accordingly. Don’t give him five stars and tip him. He agrees.

We’ve made it to our first day. We’re alive. Ready for the trip!