You Should Always Ride Shotgun in an Uber

When an Uber pulls up, you probably get into the back seat. At least, that's what I used to do. When you're using the service as a replacement for a taxi, it makes complete sense. But something curious happens when you sit in the front seat of a car. And by "curious," I mostly mean "pretty damn weird."

As a driver once told me, sitting in the front made the experience more like "a favor between friends, rather than a service between a driver and customer." That stuck with me. With this description in mind, I felt like a real entitled piece of garbage for all the times I sat in the back seat, while my driver/potential friend sat alone in front. Every time I've done this to a "real" friend, they refuse to move the car until I sit in front.

Sitting in the front seat removes the physical barrier between you and the driver. In the process, a layer of social formality is also peeled back. For the purpose of this discussion, and to feel like a scientist, I have named this the front seat passenger phenomenon.

So after conversing with this driver, I've always tried to sit in the front seat of my Ubers, as to not be a dick. Once I made the switch, I noticed conversation depth and richness reaching levels that were once reserved only for people I was much more familiar with.

Some rudimental field research further bolstered my front seat theory. I downloaded Whisper and posted a quick query for strangers to answer. I didn't have the space to fully flesh out my front seat passenger phenomenon, so I settled on this:

Within minutes, I received this response:

Look at the possibilities. Sitting in the front seat could yield you (presumably) free drugs, and a (presumably free, minus the cost of the Uber ride) sexual encounter!

(Obviously, like most research, my own comes with caveats. First, you have to believe that a stranger on the internet wouldn't lie to you. Second, you have to believe that a stranger wouldn't lie to you about getting laid.)

Regardless, it doesn't always go so well. Even before considering the front seat phenomenon, know I'm not alone in my extraordinary interactions. Who hasn't complained about how the strange shit taxi drivers say from time to time? (Not that we aren't all guilty of saying strange shit every now and then, of course.)

A recurring theme of the Uber rides I took while experimenting with the front seat phenomenon was drivers' mention of our "common" heritage. In Seattle, many of the drivers are from Ethiopia or Eritrea, and many of them have been convinced I was also Ethiopian or Eritrean.

"You look like one of my countrymen," said one. Another, after I disclosed the fact that I was in fact neither, asked me what I was, to which I replied Indian. He asked me which one of my parents was Indian; when I told him both, he shot me a look in the rearview mirror (I was sitting in the back for this ride) before saying, "Are you sure?"

My sitting in the back is notable because eye contact made in the rear view mirror is much more intense than the regular kind. For one, the mirror only shows the eyebrows and eyes, which are definitely the most intense parts of the face. It also means the driver has decided that, in this moment, looking into your eyes is more important than paying attention to oncoming traffic.

On the other side of the divide, the eye contact was less intense, but the conversations certainly became more intimate. Instead of being a stranger in the backseat, I was now a friend, which seemed to make drivers comfortable enough to act more, well, strange.

I called an Uber on a Wednesday night to pick me up from central district Seattle when a Mercury SUV came to pick me up. The man, whose rearview mirror flag suggested he'd once hailed from the Ivory Coast, was friendly and had a sparkle in his eyes. A couple minutes into the ride, we pull up to a red light where he spots two guys holding hands while walking on the sidewalk. The driver audibly scoffed and pointed to the couple. "What do you think of that?" he asked.

In Seattle, seeing a couple white dudes holding hands is more common sight than sunlight. However, I quickly realized my driver was still not comfortable with seeing gay couples go about their day, despite the efforts of Seattle's own Macklemore. After I told him my stance on same-sex relationships (they are normal), he got on his soapbox to explicitly hash out his stance (they are bad.)

"It is not natural," he said, "Why, if a woman want to be with a woman, she must use plastic?! A man, naturally has this!" At first, I thought plastic referred to credit cards, and that it was some kind of slight to women being fiscally dependent on men. I quickly realized he was referring to dildos. He went on to say how he feels a certain way when he sees an attractive woman, but how could a man feel that towards a man?

This interaction put me in a tough position. On one hand, I kept thinking of that quote, "All that is necessary for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing." On the other hand, my dude seemed to not understand homosexuality on a fundamental level.

The most I could muster was telling him I didn't think it was something that affected him, and definitely not something to get so worked up about. He would agree and remain silent for a few moments before starting himself back up. I eventually told him that we were at my stop, about 8 blocks from where I was actually planning on going. Evil triumphed that day.

I doubt this conversation would have transpired if I was sitting in the back seat. For a contrasting example, can you imagine a limo driver rolling down the partition to provide his unsolicited and extremely offensive opinion about anything? My very limited experience riding in limousines says no.

My experiences of the front seat phenomenon are not isolated within Seattle. One conversation in San Francisco sticks out.

A middle-aged West Indian guy with graying hair starts off the conversation by explaining that "foreigners" are harder workers than Americans. I got on board with this, citing both of my foreign-made parents as anecdotal evidence. He then asked if I knew anything about the Indian culture, which I found both humorous and offensive. I told him I knew a bit, given both my parents immigrated to this country from India, and I had also lived there just a couple years ago.

He went on to explain America's current plight: people are quick to label their kids with diseases and give them medicine when they don't need it. I made it a point to drop the phrase "ADD Nation" to let me him know I'd read a Time Magazine article about this subject a few years ago.

He quickly segued into his next problem statement: religion is a detriment to human society, explaining why. I tried to say maybe it's a good support system for some people, but he was not buying that. It became rather clear that he didn't want to have an open dialogue, but rather utilize his time with me to deliver this impromptu speech.

But it's not all bad. I've had drivers that gave me advice that I reflect upon on a daily basis.

One driver was a social worker who advised me against living in the neighborhood he was driving me into to look at an apartment. He went on to explain to me that I'm still young and have time to figure out what I'd like to do, and the importance of always having a plan B (in terms of career planning, not contraceptives).

While this was unsolicited, it was welcome feedback and advice. He was a social worker who also started a daycare business out of his house, which his wife managed while also taking night classes to become a nurse. They were a power couple. And for 20 minutes, this guy was basically my dad. I miss him.

I don't blame Uber for being ferried about by highly opinionated folks. It's refreshing to have an actual conversation with a stranger. And to its credit, Uber actually has a ratings system that helps most people avoid some of these more offensive conversations from transpiring. If a driver's average rating (out of 5 stars) dips below 4.7, they are no longer able to drive for the company. This explains why most people only have a handful of crazy driver stories. A couple low ratings and you're out.

I could do my part in this user system and rate these guys down, but I enjoy these conversations, and I give them all 5 stars. Aside from the homophobic guy, it's pretty harmless. To attest to the harshness of the Uber rating system, I once took a ride with a driver who got lost, and in exchange for me not giving him a poor rating, he gave me the entire cost of the fare in cash. (This was his idea, not mine. I didn't even tell him I was going to rate him poorly, though I probably would have.)

The front seat passenger phenomenon is not immune to the varying social temperatures from coast to coast. When in New York, I asked my driver how often he had solo front-seat passengers. Only twice, he said, noting that both instances were to avoid car sickness.

He noted that he very rarely, if ever, engaged the passenger in conversation. Most people were coming from or going to work, and spent their Uber ride catching a quick nap or on their cell phone. He let them dictate the vibe of the ride: complete silence, small talk, or a heart-to-heart if the situation lent itself to it.

While the driver might drive the vehicle, it's really up to you to steer the conversation. ( Oh shit. I know.) Sitting in the front seat is the first step to initiate genuine dialogue, something everyone could use a bit more of. Outside of a cab, when do you get a one-on-one captive audience for your app idea, bigoted rant, or unsolicited life advice?

While I was usually on the receiving end, the front seat phenomenon is a two-way street. Once, while Ubering home in the early morning in Boston, I played a story my friend previously recorded, so me and my two friends in the back seat could listen to it. We forced our driver to listen with the end goal of rating it from 1-10. The story was about my friend being propositioned by a stranger to buy some crack, and then perform a sexual favor, if I recall correctly. Our driver gave it a 7.

Crack-related or not, we could all use a bit more genuine human interaction. When you're splurging for an Uber instead of taking the bus or walking, atone for your laziness with conversation. Hop into the front seat, and prepare for a perspective-shattering conversation with your new life coach, or perhaps 15 minutes of hell with someone you pray to never see with again. At the very least, you'll have a story to tell your next driver.