By: Christopher M. Moore
Ever feel like your accent is a barrier? Alex McColm, author of the popular new book The Rideshare Diaries, discovered something interesting during his 27,000 trips as an Uber driver on Australia’s Gold Coast. Those awkward moments when we mispronounce words or try to imitate accents aren’t always embarrassing failures. They can sometimes be unexpected opportunities. They might even serve as invitations to share a laugh. What follows can sometimes help turn strangers into acquaintances.
McColm shares an example in his book. As a Scottish immigrant, he often encountered puzzled smiles when passengers heard his thick Dumfries brogue. Early on, a passenger asked him to rate their attempt at a Scottish accent. Instead of feeling awkward, Alex saw it as a chance to connect. He offered a playful lesson: “Try saying ‘sweet and sour sauce’ like Sean Connery. Make every ‘s’ sound like ‘sh’. Give it a go – ‘shweet and shower shaushe’!” What followed wasn’t mockery. It was shared laughter. A moment of genuine human warmth in the backseat of his car.
This could be seen as a form of “accent diplomacy.” It’s not about achieving perfect pronunciation. It’s about the willingness to try, to be open, and to acknowledge our differences. In The Rideshare Diaries, McColm shows how these linguistic mishaps often become a social glue. When an Irish passenger called his friend “a Baloney” (a term oddly affectionate in Ireland but puzzling elsewhere), it sparked curiosity rather than offense. When Bostonians clarified that not everyone sounds like a gangster from The Departed, it challenged stereotypes. These interactions often create small connections across cultures.
Language quirks reveal pieces of our history and identity. McColm marvels at how Bond University students from New York didn’t match his De Niro-esque expectations. Their accents, more sophisticated than he anticipated, reminded him that every voice tells its own story. Even Australian slang, like using “cant” as a term of endearment (“How’s it goin’, cant?”), evolved from misunderstanding into a shared badge of camaraderie. McColm himself now proudly responds “Aye, I’m a Scottish cant!” when locals tease him. The misstep becomes an inside joke. The inside joke fosters a sense of belonging.
Why does this seem to work? Because embracing our linguistic differences requires humility and often invites playfulness. Trying an accent can say, “I see you. I’m curious about you. And I don’t take myself too seriously.” When McColm attempts an Irish lilt or a Boston vowel, passengers don’t feel mocked. They feel understood. They laugh with him, not at him. Shared humor helps dissolve barriers. It’s hard to feel distrustful of someone laughing alongside you.
This experience isn’t limited to Uber rides. Think back to the last time you tried ordering food in a language you don’t speak fluently. The waiter’s patient smile. Your own amusement at your clumsy attempt. That small connection can be meaningful. In a world that can often seem divided by borders and biases, McColm illustrates how mispronouncing “sweet and sour sauce” can sometimes become an act of connection. It’s a reminder that beneath our accents, we’re all just humans trying to communicate, connect, and sometimes, attempt a less-than-perfect Sean Connery impression.
Since launching, The Rideshare Diaries has resonated with a broad audience, highlighting McColm’s central truth: real connection often happens when we embrace imperfection. His stories show that taxis, buses, and rideshares aren’t just about transportation. They can become opportunities for people to interact in a way that’s rich with humanity’s diversity. Every accent offers a new perspective. Every mispronunciation? An opportunity to share that perspective.
Ready to explore More Unexpected Connections?
Delve into Alex McColm’s The Rideshare Diaries for a heartfelt, funny journey that demonstrates how humanity can often reveal itself in the most unexpected conversations. The book is available now at major retailers.
