LOS ANGELES -- The driverless white Jaguars crisscrossing Los Angeles were such a novelty at first, like something out of a science fiction novel. Every time a Waymo passed, delighted pedestrians pointed and grabbed their smartphones for photos.

And yet, there was also something kind of creepy about the robot cars zipping around town, whirring cameras jutting like taxi lights from their roofs. I found Waymos simultaneously intriguing and offputting, a great technological leap forward and yet another sign that the tech bros are not just in charge of our online lives, but our streets as well.

In January, the New York Times quoted harried (but affluent) parents singing Waymo's praises as a great tool for helping get their teenagers around.

Eventually, as a single parent raising my teenage niece, I gave in. If I was too busy to take her to guitar lessons, say, I could plop her into a Waymo and feel good knowing that she didn't have to interact with a potentially creepy adult male stranger. My niece loved being able to rock out to her own music at top volume. And, bonus: no tipping required.

My girl, bless her sneaky little teenage heart, soon realized she could cut me out of the equation entirely. She figured out how to order a Waymo using her Apple cash account. Hundreds of dollars later, I discovered she'd been sallying all over the place not in city buses, but in Waymos, including a few after-hours visits with friends.

I rather loudly hit the roof (apologies to my neighbors) and called Waymo support in a huff. The bot was not very apologetic, but it did kill my niece's account. (Except for a pilot program in Phoenix for 14- to 17-year-olds, minors are not allowed to have Waymo accounts. Technically, they aren't even supposed to ride without an adult.)

I expected my friends to be outraged on my behalf. Instead, they were amused.

"New technology, same old behavior," was the consensus.

True. When I was 11, I hitchhiked with my friend Tracy along Pacific Coast Highway from Leo Carrillo to County Line. At 15, my best friend Julie and I hitchhiked from the Valley through Topanga Canyon to the beach. An unshaven guy with bloodshot eyes picked us up. A Marine just home from Vietnam, he'd been up all night drinking.

But I digress.

When Waymos are in the news, it's almost never good.

They've been recalled to fix problems like driving into highway construction zones, across flooded roadways, into chains, gates and telephone poles.

They honk like geese when they turn in for the night, turning normally tech-friendly neighbors into sleepless antagonists, a whole new subgenre of road rage. In Santa Monica, near the intersection of Euclid and Broadway, residents have complained vociferously about round-the-clock beeping and humming of Waymos as they pull into Voltera charging stations. After Santa Monica officials demanded the lots cease operations between 11 a.m. and 6 p.m., Waymo, owned by the parent company of Google, sued. Santa Monica countersued. The lawsuits are pending.

In October, a Waymo ran over a beloved San Francisco bodega cat that had wandered under the vehicle. KitKat's death sparked a uniquely San Francisco response: An elaborate street altar appeared at the curb. A county supervisor convened a "Justice for KitKat" rally, and called for a non-binding resolution to strip autonomous vehicle regulations from the state and give it to counties. (It failed.)

Waymo, while apologetic, absolved itself and pledged to make a donation to a local animal shelter in KitKat's name.

A few months later, again in Santa Monica, a child who darted into the street midblock in front of Grant Elementary School during morning drop off was hit by a passing Waymo. The vehicle, going 17 mph, slammed on its brakes but was unable to stop in time. The 9-year-old was not seriously injured and did not require hospitalization.

Now, you might assume that parents would be up in arms about Waymos near schools, but quite the opposite occurred. Parents, it seems, understand that a human driver, with human reflexes, probably would not have been able to stop as quickly as the robot car did.

"In our view, the presence of more Waymo vehicles, combined with better street design and traffic calming, moves our community in the direction of safer streets for children," said Leonora Camner, a Santa Monica parent and safe streets advocate.

A study by Swiss Re, one of the world's largest reinsurance companies, found that Waymo's self-driving cars were involved in far fewer claims than human drivers, with an 88% reduction in property-damage claims and a 92% reduction in injury claims over 25.3 million autonomous miles. The more Waymos drive, it turns out, the safer they become. When Waymos are involved in accidents, it's almost always the other (human) guy's fault.

On the other hand, it also turns out that Waymos can be used by humans for stupid driving tricks. On June 19, a woman driving on Olympic Boulevard in Santa Monica filmed a Waymo with teenage and preteen boys dangling out the windows, smartphones in hand. She told KTLA 5 TV that she contacted Waymo customer service, asking that the car be remotely shut down, but the car did not stop. A Waymo spokesperson said the accounts associated with the young riders had been suspended.

Late last year, Waymo, now amid a massive expansion — London! Tokyo! — announced it was reprogramming its vehicles to make them drive less cautiously and "more confidently assertive."

I felt that recently. I was in a Waymo in Venice Beach during rush hour when my robotaxi surprised me. With traffic bumper to bumper, it nudged onto Pacific Avenue to make a left turn, oblivious to the nasty looks from human drivers. It was a real jerk move, but hey, not my fault. The robot made me do it.

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