Journey into the Fear: UberT, UberX, Black Car, and Rush

Marquel, TPVs NYTimes Uber über Uber Section correspondent, was trying on riding boots, when he stopped to drink a glass of port and read Terror Attacks by a Native Son Rock Denmark.

It was a horrific story but Marquel’s eye was particularly caught by the following passage: “The gunman then fled by car…. Video footage from surveillance cameras showed the suspect…order a taxi.” Marquel was curious about how that works.

Danes are rated the happiest nation in the world and, almost unique among Western nations, does not take punitive steps towards would be terrorists who travel to Yemen or Syria or Somalia. Instead they have “reintegration” offices to help the deranged become useful Danish citizens again.

Apparently the Danes are somewhat terrorist friendly, just an outgrowth of the fact that they are such an uncannily happy country that they are friendly to everyone. So it shouldn’t be surprising that their terrorists take taxis on the way to and from their work. They must be special taxis because terrorists are usually in a hurry and a New Yorker, for instance, would end up blowing himself into a crater in the street, still wagging his hand in the air, if forced to take a taxi to his target.

But things are different in tolerant Denmark. Marquel was told by the consul here that, “yes we have a dedicated terrorist taxi company to serve their needs.”

“Why,” asked Marquel, “give the terrorists their own taxis?”

Sure enough, along the bottom of the screen were “UberT, UberX, Black Car, and Rush,” just as at home. But a fifth button was labeled, “nonintegrated.” To make sure there were no doubts or mistakes, the word was accompanied by a black turbanned icon, wearing a machine gun and bomb vest.

“So a terrorist knows what to call, but who do you know to send?” I asked.

“For instance right now you can see six or eight little black icon cars circling our neighborhood. Two of them have gun barrels sticking out their windows. Those are terrorist Ubers. The drivers have all volunteered for that. They are also mostly Muslims who have not integrated well, but they seem happy in this job so in a sense everyone’s happy. That’s important to us Danes.”

I went outside, downloaded Uber and gave it a try. In a second an Uber car showed up, sped down the road and flipped the door open without stopping. The driver motioned to me, so I jumped in and he sped off again, the door swinging so I closed it. He said something in Arabic or Danish that must have meant “where to?” So I said, “airport.”

We swung around to the autor oute and were within one exit of the airport when the driver pulled one of those instant U turns, kicking the handbrake and accelerating around so that we were then facing incoming traffic. He crossed the divider, took the first exit, headed back on a service road, screeched to a stop in front of the main terminal, popped the door, and accelerated off again so I was left on the sidewalk.

People were staring at me, but in a friendly Danish way. What a country. Everyone is equal. Even terrorists. I went into the airport cafe and, for a joke, ordered a Danish.

“Cheese, cinnamon or pecan?” the amazingly blonde waitress asked me.

I chose cinnamon. I think that’s the most authentic. I ordered coffee and it came in one of those blue and white cardboard New York cups. I felt at home. I think that’s the point in Denmark.

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By MARQUEL: Journey into the Fear: UberT, UberX, Black Car, and Rush