Commuting & The Agony of Waiting
Why I'd like to know when my ride arrives
The rhythm of my mornings goes like this: I wake up, take a bath, fix my baon, then sit on the couch waiting for the little on-screen motorcycle of the MoveIt app to arrive at my location to pick me up. While monotonous, I’ve realized that it's hidden the true power of a feature common to any ride-hailing app.
Lately, I’ve been trying to pay close attention to product design choices. One feature that stood out to me upon reflection was how MoveIt tells me exactly how far my driver is in units of minutes: “John is 4 minutes away.”
As common of a feature as it is, a closer analysis reveals it provides an amount of peace I’ve been completely underappreciating.
A few months ago, I commuted home on the now-discontinued point-to-point bus. Despite the signage that said it would arrive at 7 PM, it followed Gandalf's rule: It arrives when it arrives. Acceptable for wizards; tragic for public transport.
I’d arrive at the station from my office at around 6:30 PM where a growing line of antsy and tired office workers stood waiting. Being in the line was dispiriting. The anxiety was palpable.
Commuters carrying big, black backpacks swayed slightly, relieving the pressure on each foot. While most were scrolling on their phones, everyone would, on their own time, look down the empty road beside us, for even a flicker of light, signaling that we’d be sitting in an airconditioned bus soon.
When the road remained empty and their eyes emitted disappointment, the agony continued. Time ran as we continued standing. How much longer would we have to wait? The soles of my feet would ache, a sensation I knew wasn’t unique, which brought a guilty sense of relief.
Every minute we stood there was a minute gone from family time; from eating a warm meal; from feeling the cool breeze on our socked feet as we walked through the front door at home. The fact that their physical bodies weren’t following suit stoked their frustration.
All this because none of us knew when the bus would arrive.
Now, when I book my MoveIt in the morning, I don’t fidget or sway. I don’t scan roads or brace for disappointment. Anxiety’s power fizzles. All because I know: John is 4 minutes away.