You may or may not be wondering where I’ve been. Well, I’ve been on the go, many thanks to Uber’s recent rollout of wheelchair accessible vehicles in Philly. Uber’s timing was actually perfect. My van was totaled in a hit-and-run two weeks ago. It was an unfortunate event, but thankfully no one was injured, at least as far as I know; the driver of the other car abandoned the vehicle, and my van was just parked with no one in it. Nonetheless, this post isn’t about my car; it’s about the newfound freedom I’ve gained with access to Uber.

Now, I don’t use Uber everyday, but it’s a liberating feeling to know I can pick up and go when I want. In recent weeks, I went out to dinner in Northern Liberties at El Camino, caught a Phillies game and went to Xfinity Live in South Philly, and hung out with some friends at Morgan’s Pier on Penn’s Landing, none of which would’ve been made easy without Uber. In the near future, until I get a new van, I’ll be also using Uber to get to doctors appointments as I am contemplating Spinraza, a new drug FDA approved to treat (not cure) my disability. That’s another bag of worms to blog about, but thanks again to Uber!

I know I’m making it sound like Uber is the end-all be-all of transportation options for people in wheelchairs, but it’s not. Taxi services do also have wheelchair accessible vehicles, but time and time again they have proven to me… that they suck. Let me share one story.

This past winter, on a freezing cold night, I went to a concert at the Wells Fargo Center; Meek Mill’s if you’re curious. I booked a taxi to and from the show days in advance. Getting there was no problem. When the show was over, I got a call from a taxi driver that he was waiting for my aide and I in the parking lot. However, when I went outside and saw the long line of taxis, there was no van in sight. So, I called the taxi driver back.

“Hello,” he answered.

“Yeah, I don’t see a van?”

“You need a van?” He seemed surprised.

“Yeah… I’m in a wheelchair.”

“Oh. They’ll have to send someone else. I can’t fit a wheelchair.”

What the f*^%?!

So, I called the cab company again.

“Hi. I had a reservation for a wheelchair accessible cab at the Wells Fargo Center for midnight, and they sent a non-accessible cab.” I said.

“Okay, sir. We’ll have to dispatch another cab to your location.” The dispatcher responded.

“Can you let me know how long that will take?”

“I’m not sure, sir. We have to find one first.”

“Great, thanks.”

At this point, my aide and I were the only spectators left in the entire arena, one member of the security staff was waiting for us to leave so he could lock the doors, and, to make matters worse, my phone and my aide’s phone were nearly dead. I needed to use a lifeline. I didn’t want to make this phone call, but my aide was on the verge of tears and I was starting to think the cab would never come.

“Hello,” my brother woke from his sleep to answer the phone.

“Yo kid. I’m kind of in a jam.”

“Alright. What’s up?”

“Uh.. I’m kinda stranded. I’m at the Wells Fargo Center and the cab never came to pick me up.”

“Alright. I’ll go get the van and pick you up.” Unfortunately, the van was parked in front of my condo building, about fifteen minutes from his apartment.

Of course, not ten minutes after I hung up with my brother, the cab arrived. I tried to let my brother know, but he left his apartment so quickly that he forgot his cell phone. Now, I faced a serious dilemma. Do I take the cab home, or do I wait for my brother and hope he comes to the right exit at the Wells Fargo Center where I was waiting?

I knew my brother would just want me home safe and sound, so I got in the cab. But, here’s the worst part. As the cab pulled up to my condo building to drop me off, I saw my brother pulling away in my van. Luckily, he improvised and got ahold of a phone once he got to the Wells Fargo Center. Then, once I told him I was home, he turned around and went home.

That was the last time I used a cab. Needless to say, I’m really thankful for Uber!