The Lyft app buzzes and I am quick to accept the ride on the app. It’s in one of the more come-as-you-are neighborhoods of L.A. so I am a little apprehensive. It would be easy for a criminal who has stolen a credit card to lure me in and then steal my car. But even the criminals aren’t up this early, I tell myself.
I stop at the address and I see a shadow walking towards me. It’s a young, Hispanic woman, barely 20. I unlock the doors and she hops into the backseat. She tells me she’s going to work at Target. She’s petite but will be unloading trucks for the next eight hours.
On the way over, we talk. We share how circumstances have placed us here in the shadow of LAX heading for a target store so early in the morning. The unemployed, desperate-for-work middle-aged guy and the very young single mom without a car. She tells me about her one-year-old before I drop her off. How her daughter had been so excited to see her that she wouldn’t go to sleep. But with a bath, mommy won.