It was Friday. TGIF, right?
It was a quarter to 2 am, and I sat in the small parking lot of a ginormous house, with a huge water fountain, and a big ass garage on the large lot of land.
Sitting there looking at the beautiful home with my headlights blaring into the property, I hoped for an interesting story, but I got much more than I wanted.
I sat there for five minutes or so and wondered if I was at the right location. Uber said this was the spot, but Uber has been wrong before. Finally a young man came out and told me he had to go back and get his friend.
Great, I thought.
I sat there for awhile and I knew what was up. I regretted accepting the ride. He eventually came back out with another guy, who was helping him drag an unconscious friend out of the mansion.
I was tempted to cancel right then and there, and bounce up out that bitch–⏤but I didn’t. It took them forever to get Dickhead, as the young man called him, in the backseat.
“He said he wanted to go beer for beer with me and you can see how that turned out.
“What’s the fee for someone puking in your car?”
I closed my eyes and breathed. Dickhead started gurgling and dry heaving. His friend reached over and popped the door open with a quickness pushing the drunk’s head out. I didn’t even bother looking back and told him about the barf bag in the door.
The young man was nice and apologized a bazillion times, but each apology went unanswered, because we had’t even left yet. The clock was running, but we weren’t moving, and that fifteen cents a minute wasn’t worth this bullshit.
We had been sitting there for fifteen or twenty minutes at this point and I was fucking annoyed. I wanted to kick those two out so bad–⏤but I didn’t.
Eventually he shoved his unconscious friend back inside before plopping in himself, and finally we were off.
“He’s not going to puke in your car bro.”
Yeah, keep telling yourself that “bro“, I thought to myself.
His parents were out of town and they decided to have a small kickback with some friends. The young man’s destination wasn’t far at all, but I took it slow, in fear of a bump causing Dickhead to chew backwards all over my seats.
When we got there, it took him two and a half months the get Dickhead out of my car and into his house. I couldn’t leave just yet, because he left some stuff in my car he said he was coming back for.
The seconds ticked away like hours. I don’t get paid jack when I’m not moving and I was tempted to leave his shit on the curb and jam–⏤but I didn’t.
I noticed something on the seat where Dickhead was sitting. I didn’t smell anything from the driver seat and it appeared to be dirt or sand, so I wasn’t too concerned.
Total time on the ride was almost forty-five minutes before he ran back out apologizing again and again. He handed me an eight dollar tip thanking me and once again apologizing for the inconvenience before yanking his belongings out of my car. I was off to see what was left of the bar scene.
I pulled over down the street to inspect the backseat before picking up the next ride. I was ready to free the small car vacuum in the trunk when I noticed a wet spot⏤
The dirt or sand wasn’t dirt or sand. Captain dumb-fuck done shat his pants and done dookied on my seat.
I was livid.
Then, I could smell it, and home was a twenty minute ride away.
I had made a little over three bucks from the ride (+ $8 tip) for a fucked up forty-five minutes of my life, and I missed out on the rest of the shift (I’m usually out till 4-430am on weekends).
That’s that Uber life. It can’t always be hot chicks and fat tips.
*My seat is dookie free and I’m one hundred and fifty dollars closer to becoming a thousandaire.