Dear UberEATS,

When I said I wished Uber could deliver me and a pizza to my house, I was joking.

You’re here now though, and things are off to a rocky start between us. You misread a joke, and now you exist. It’s kind of like sending a “wish you were here” snapchat, then actually having that person show up at the party, and awkwardly stand around. Stop being so literal, it’s really killing the vibe at this party.

Onto the problematic nature of your arrival. I’ve seen “Terminator,” and “WALL-E,” and if those cinematic masterpieces taught me anything, it’s that technology wants to kill me, or make me fat. In your case, it’s both.

Normally, I’m able to force myself into the real world once or twice a week by using restaurants as a lure. They serve a two purposes: feeding me and making me too self-conscious to eat alone. I’m forced to find a hungry “friend,” and “socialize” with them, because let’s be clear, I’m not the appealing part of dinner at a restaurant.

This ritual makes me sure of a few things. One, I won’t die from not feeding myself — myself being a 21-year-old who regularly forgets to eat. Two, it tricks a roomful of restaurant patrons into thinking I have a friend.

You want to take all that away from me. Well, not all of it, because you are feeding me, but the parts that make me seem like an actual human being. Because of you, I can eat any food at an affordable price without leaving my house. Do you have any idea the irreparable harm that’s causing me?

I’ve holed myself up in my apartment like I’m expecting a nuclear winter to hit. I haven’t eaten around other people in over a week. That has negative effects. On me, at least. My friends are probably thrilled I haven’t been hounding them to grab Ba Chi with me for the third time this week.

Soon, you’ll know exactly where I go, and exactly what I eat. There will be UberEATS waiting at my door as an Uber drops me off. This is exactly how “Maximum Overdrive” starts, or something equally stupid.

Sincerely,

Hungry, Hungry Hermit