Uber Dad 🚗

I Guess I’m a Full-Time Uber Driver Now (Payment: Eye Rolls & Half-Eaten Snacks)

Somewhere along the way, I stopped being Walter Williams: father, author, grown man with dreams and a purpose.

And became:

Walter Williams, Unpaid Uber Driver with Questionable Gas Mileage and No Days Off.

Nobody told me fatherhood came with this job description. I thought I was raising kids. Turns out I’m running logistics for a small, emotionally unstable transportation company.

Let me break down a regular weekday:

8:12 AM – Drive Child #1 to school

9:00 AM – Circle back because Child #1 forgot the project that is “literally due TODAY!!”

4:06 PM – Another drop-off Child # 2

6:30 PM – “Dad, can you bring me my charger?”

8:20 PM – “Dad, actually can you pick me up now?”

9:07 PM – I’m parked outside of a dance studio or school with the car running like a lost security guard.

At this point, the car is my office. I take calls in it. I eat in it. I have stared into my rearview mirror and asked myself deep life questions in it.

I don’t even listen to music anymore. Just silence. Pure silence. The silence of a man who has accepted his fate. How did I get here?

And here’s the wild part THEY DON'T care. My kids hop in like I’m the chauffeur of their personal movie. They don’t say, “Hello Dad, thank you for the safe and reliable transportation service you provide.” No. They slide in, drop crumbs, and start talking about something that happened to someone I’ve never met in my life: Or friends that I still have never met their parents.

“So then Mia told Jada that Jada told”

I don’t even know these people, man. Just know them by their names smh!

But I nod, because that’s part of the job too.

Sometimes, when I’m dropping one off while texting the coach of the other while checking the GPS for the next pickup, I stop and think:

Is this… is this why I’m here?

And the answer is:

Surprisingly… yes.

Because somewhere between the exhaustion and the endless miles, there are these quick moments:

When they sit in the car after a long day and sigh.

When they need to talk.

When they ask for advice.

When they laugh at something only we get.

When they fall asleep in the backseat because they feel safe enough to.

Those are the moments that remind me:

The driving isn’t the purpose.

Being present is.

Even when I’m tired.

Even when it feels repetitive.

Even when I’m convinced I’ve spent half my life at red lights.

One day, the car will be empty.

They’ll drive themselves.

They’ll be busy.

They’ll be grown.

And I’ll miss this.

So I’ll keep driving exhausted, slightly confused, occasionally questioning my life choices but driving with love.

Because this is fatherhood.

This is the job.

This is the download.

Keep standing, fellow Dad-Ubers.

We may not get tips, but we’re shaping lives