Last night I took this call in Owings Mills—a good area, out of the city by many miles. When I arrive at the pickup location the client calls and wants me to pick him up across the street from the designated pickup. I complied.

The man was young and of tremendous stature, a black man. His hands were larger than my head, his arms twice the girth of my legs and he was angry. He thanked me for picking him up at his changed location and then began to rant about the previous Uber driver declining to change locations and driving off. Now that he was inside of my car—which tilted from the burden—and I regarded his great size, I began to reconsider my agreement to alter the pickup location.

I was further disturbed—and began to further question my own judgment in this matter—when I heard his conversation, for he was on his smart phone the entire trip, as we headed into the City, to an area where I would have been none to likely to pick him up. I thought then as to the probable outcome of a disagreement with this man and the likely ending did not bode well for me, not at all.

As we went upon our way his attention thankfully turned from his displeasure with the Uber service to his own concerns, which were aired in troubling detail in my back seat. His manner was menacing. His tone was more so. However, the substance of his "business" and his willingness to discuss these things within my hearing filled me with dread. I tell you, sir, I was in fear for my life. This was a man that one does not cross, and who is errant enough in his dealings that one might never truly know if they be crossing him until it is too late. What kind of person conducts themselves with such menacing audacity. I thought to myself?

The answer need not be spoken among worldly men, of course.

In any event the service was rendered and he seemed to forget me as soon as he left the vehicle, for which I am grateful and which I trust remains the case. This and other questionable passengers this week have me wondering as to the viability of driving for Uber. It is better than driving under some other circumstances, surely. But the question remains, is the world any longer a place where one can expose themselves in their daily business to such a variety of people and expect to return home to his family?

In my home country of Nigeria, there are many such bad sorts of fellows. To be certain they might infest any country. But there—and in most places in the world—they are in their bad places, their enclaves, their slums, their tribal compounds, not standing beside a hotel frequented by good people in an outlying suburb. Why this is madness!