MY WORST (BEST?) Uber experience

I was on a hike with a girlfriend once from Greenwich Village, trying to get back to Sutton Place-- We found ourselves outside of Penn Station, so we decided to stop at the tick tock diner a few blocks away-- (35th and 8th?) It doesn't matter-- nor do I care. It's one of Papasan's favorite places in the city, so he was there with me in spirit. Like all great diners, it's open all night-- and they never let your coffee mug get empty. The pineapple pancakes are phenomenal, but I went with an omelette.

TICK TOCK DINER, NY

Anyways, we eventually got our food, paid the check, and called an Uber. It was around 2 in the morning, so we were overtired, and I probably cranky. New York City's taxi and license commission did everything they could to regulate (or disrupt?) Uber's operation in the city-- One of those regulations was that Uber would be a uniformed operation, unlike it's rural drivers. So, they had to register with the TLC-- this meant each license plate would make it known it was a taxi. That's fine-- don't sweat it. The problem begins to arise when every car is the same. I've probably taken a hundred Uber's in Manhattan-- 98 of those were either a black Toyota, or a black Nissan, all with incredibly similar license plates.

Back to my story-- I call our Uber and what I think is Mohammed pulls up. He let's out a group of college girls, and I get into his car-- he yells at me to get out, that I'm not his passenger. No worries, man. We all make mistakes-- I get out of the car, and my driver calls me telling me he can't find me. He tells me he's a block away from where I was. We walk the block, and we get into the car-- It's the same driver whose car we had already tried to get into-- he then began yelling. I politely apologize, and we get out. Our driver calls me AGAIN, and I walk across 8th ave in a confused haze. He then tells me he's on the side of the street we were originally on. For the 3rd time, I put my hand on the door of the car I've tried to get into twice, and the look of rage on this drivers face was something that triggers a traumatic response-- I canceled my original trip, flagged down a yellow cab, and pondered my entire existence on the way back home. OUR CAB DRIVE WAS GREAT-- WE had a great conversation, and got us to our destination in a timely fashion. My worst experience wasn't ubers fault-- It was totally on me.