New Zealand Listener

RIDERS

- ASHLEIGH YOUNG Ashleigh Young is an editor, tutor, poet, blogger and essayist. Her latest book, Can You Tolerate This? (Victoria University Press), has been longlisted for the Ockham New Zealand Book Awards.

Her rule was, the more stuff a rider had, and the crappier the destinatio­n, the better their talk should be. A kid who needed a lift to the dump with a La-Z-Boy and three full rubbish bags should basically be doing performanc­e art back there. He got a 3 for staring at his phone.

Most riders gave her some chat before pulling out their phones. They didn’t want to be rated down. Even execs going to the airport or couples home from successful dates. She drove afternoons and nights, except for days when she wasn’t at the mailroom, when she started earlier. She tried to be generous. You don’t know how anyone’s day has gone. But sometimes, when she got sick of people flopping into the car, as if their bodies were suddenly her problem, like the runner who’d run too far and couldn’t be bothered running home, a rage seized her and she’d hand out 4s or even 3.5s.

She reserved her worst ratings for riders who told stories they’d obviously told before. Like the policy analyst who went on about how he’d saved a woman from drowning in Fiji. She’d been blown out to sea in an inflatable pink flamingo. “Her husband was just standin’ there, takin’ photos,” the analyst cried. Or the lecturer who claimed a connection with Trump – something to do with a Norwegian heiress. These riders didn’t give a shit whether she liked their story. It was better when the story was fresh; best when it also required her to break out of her role as driver and offer comfort, like the man who told of his mortifying date, or the actor who’d accidental­ly burnt, badly, another actor’s hand on stage that night.

Every so often, she’d imagine a friendship. Sometimes desire came over her and she thought about sleeping with one. She’d try to make the ride last, try to make any silence feel comfortabl­y shared rather than a given. But it was like

viewing flats or job listings. You imagined how it could be. Then you’d remember all the others clamouring for the same thing, going after it faster.

Newspapers in English

Newspapers from New Zealand