The other day, I was telling my brother in law about how sometimes I pretend to talk on the phone while traveling alone in a cab. He looked at me amused and started laughing. This was a funny anecdote for him, but for me and almost all the women I know, this is a common practice.
How do you pass your time in a long cab ride? Sleeping? Listening to music? Watching a movie?
I spend my ride with my eyes glued to the Google navigation on my phone so that I know that the driver is following the designated route.
I avoid plugging in earphones so that I can hear what calls the driver is getting/making.
I’ve heard from more than one woman that the SOS on the cab apps doesn’t work all the time. So I share my ride details with my friends and family members.
Every time the driver takes a detour, there’s a pit in my stomach, and it stays there until the map reroutes and shows the other way to my destination.
And let’s not even get started on the discomfort when a cheap item song plays on the radio, and the driver begins singing along, glancing at me into the rearview mirror.
Something as normal as a cab ride is a battleground for women.
And we go through it, every single day. We can’t even take a single cab ride without fearing for our life! If this is news to you and is amusing you, then you desperately need a perspective on privilege.
We know #NotAllMen, but how do we know which ones