I have decided to break up with Uber.
While visiting my hometown of Pittsburgh over Thanksgiving, I made plans to go out to a bar with some high school friends. I wasn’t going to take my parents’ car because, well, vodka and Priuses don’t really mix! My dad asked me how I would be getting home later, and I told him that I’d just call an Uber.
“How can you call yourself a feminist and use Uber? That company doesn’t care about women at all,” my brother-in-law interjected.
I was kind of taken aback, because since moving to Seattle and spending a lot of time getting to and from parts of the city alone, I have become a relentless user of the app. I am physically cringing at this very moment, conceptualizing the hundreds of dollars that have effortlessly flowed from my PayPal account to the vast Uber coffers in…
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