The Perfect Ride
by Jeff Rutkowski

The time had nearly arrived to meet some friends at a local steakhouse for dinner. There was a new transportation company that had popped up a couple of months ago in my city and I wanted to give them a try.
In order to get certified, I had to fill in some basic information and sign a document finalizing the process. I picked up the phone and dialed the number. The automated system picked up immediately, going through the standard greeting programmed in by whoever ran the company.
"Hello there Mr. Rutkowski. I see you have no rides coming up this week. Would you like to schedule one?"
"Sure." I replied.
"Records of your past rides show a pickup at your home address around ten-thirty in the morning. Is this correct?"
I had to admit, if the document I had signed didn't spell out the fact that the system got its data from other local transportation services, I would have been really creeped out by this.
"Nope." I said, "How about five in the after-noon?"
"Sure. Where would you like to go? I can review your saved addresses if you'd like."
This was another thing about the certification process. It asked me for my home address as well as other places I thought I might frequent. Unfortunately, I hadn't known about the steakhouse until the call from my friend nearly a week ago.
"No thanks. I'm going to the steakhouse about fifteen minutes away."
I heard the soft electronic blips as the computer processed my query.
"The one at 875 Newton Boulevard?"
My jaw dropped in surprise. I didn't give it an address or anything, how had it figured that out? "Yeah." I said shakily, "How did you know?"
"There are only three steakhouses near your location. A fifteen-minute drive is about fifteen to twenty-five miles. The only location within those parameters was the one on Newton Boulevard."
"Wow. You're good." I complemented the machine.
"Thank you." it replied. "Your previous trips from departure to return time lasted an average of one and a half to three hours. Would you like a return ride at seven-thirty PM?"
"Sure."
"Great. I have you scheduled for a five PM ride from your home to Newton Boulevard, and a seven-thirty return. Anything else I can help you with?"
"Can you send me a text when the vehicle gets here?"
"No problem. I can do the same for the return ride if you'd like."
"Sure, thanks." I said before I hung up the phone.

My cell phone vibrated in my pocket, indicating the presence of an incoming text message. I looked at the screen and saw the number from the transportation company followed by the words, "Vehicle 417 arriving at 5:00 PM".
My previous experiences with vehicles hadn't been the best. The drivers always asked personal questions, gabbed about what they'd had for dinner over the last two weeks, and volunteered information I certainly couldn't care less about.
At exactly five o'clock, a tiny car pulled up to the bench where I sat waiting. It was black with a company logo painted on the side above a large "417" in white block numerals. I opened the door and climbed inside.
The interior of the vehicle didn't look much like any car I had seen before. There was only a seat with a speaker set into the dashboard below the plexi-glass windshield. The windows were also made from plexi-glass and there didn't appear to be any controls to manipulate them. As I sat in the plush seat, the door automatically swung closed and the vehicle moved slowly toward the street.
As the vehicle sped down the road, my cell phone vibrated once more with another incoming text. This one was one of those new device texts the manufacturers of the phones had recently begun supporting.
It said, "Company vehicles respond to most voice commands. More information can be provided. This message will be sent once to new customers only."
Good, I thought as I put away my phone. This company certainly knows how to accommodate an introvert like me. I experimented, telling the vehicle to play some music. It picked something from the pop charts and I quickly told it to play something obscure. The speaker gave a beep of confirmation, and it selected a song that sounded like it was recorded in the seventies. I pushed my back against the seat, causing the mechanisms to recline it to a more comfortable position and I took a short nap as the vehicle drove me to my destination.
The music faded as a quiet alarm sounded. The vehicle had pulled up to the building and the door automatically swung open, allowing me to disembark. As I approached the door leading into the steakhouse, the vehicle closed its door and sped away.
That was what I wanted in a transportation company. It did its job and only its job. I wasn't too keen on being baby-sat by these people who treated me as if I couldn't breathe without help.

The dinner went as well as could be expected and when my return ride arrived, I got the text sent by the vehicle. The same kind of music was playing from the speakers as I boarded and I reclined the seat again as it drove me back to my house.