I was in a Lyft in Olympia the other day when the driver started talking to me. He didn’t say anything particularly rude or disagreeable, but his mere act of speaking was enough to jolt my delicate Pacific Northwestern sensibilities. Still, I did my best to channel my inner Ted Lasso by summoning up what little social acumen I have, and I made small talk.
It was pleasant enough. At the end of the thirty minutes, he dropped me off at my hotel and I got out of the car. You take care now, he said.