37. Parents Weekend. Day One

 It’s Parents Weekend at the University and today I learned what that means. It means parents spend the next three days going to a lot of frat parties to outdrink their kids and have a weekend of trying to relive “the good old days”.

Everyone I drove today was doing Parents Weekend. I picked up single parents from the airport who rented houses so their kids could bring the parties there. I picked up families going to brunches and dinners, all asking their kids where the cool parties were. I picked up students going to meet their parents and expressing fear that their parents were so going to embarrass them this weekend.

In that final category, I picked UoA well dressed young lady from her apartment and headed in the direction of the dorms. She asked me if I had been busy today due to the Parents Weekend and I told her that I had indeed. 

Traffic was nuts and so the drive was slow. She said she dreaded this weekend but it was her senior year and so it was her last one. Her parents decided to stay in a dorm this year and so she couldn’t be happier that she finally moved into an apartment off campus.

She was in a sorority, which she always regretted during this time, because the Greeks always went all out to lure parents to their houses to get them drunk. 

She said that the wealthy parents rented big houses in town so if the parties died down at the frat houses, they would have parents who had places with swimming pools and jacuzzis and tons of alcohol.  She was glad that her parents hadn’t rented a house but told me they asked about others who had. 

The closer we got to her destination, the more anxiety and fear I could hear in her voice. 

I had already picked up a number of parents from nearby hotels and motels that I had dropped off at various spots on campus. It was odd because, while the young lady in my car was dressed very well, all the parents I picked up were in jeans and flip flops and shirts with ripped off sleeves (many complained about the heat and worried of that would be an issue with partying).

She said that there would be places with 24 hour partying going on. Breakfast would be made in the morning complete with Bloody Mary’s and mimosas. Then a brunch and pool party then dinner then the football game and back to the frat houses to party until their flights left on Sunday night or Monday morning.

But she imagined it would be great for ride share drivers because there was going to be a great need for rides. I dreaded the idea of driving drunken parents around with their poor kids trying to take care of them… or even worse, with kids just as drunk as they were.

I dropped her off and told her that I hoped she had a fun weekend and that her parents made good choices.

She assured me they would not.

36. Maya: The Whirling Dervish

 What shall I share tonight…

How about when I picked up the woman at the site of a three car crash where a BMW going a triple digit speed ran a red light and crashed THROUGH a Subaru, tearing it in half, then continued for half a block before exploding into debris which ended up hitting a Camry and causing it to crash and scattered wreckage over three city blocks but we don’t know how many casualties but the accident stopped my passenger’s bus and that’s why she called me because she didn’t want to be late for her making goggles for which people could watch solar eclipses?

Nah. I don’t know what happen to occupants of the vehicles and that makes for an incomplete story.

Ok, how about picking up the passenger at the Happy Inn (yes, that’s what it is called and even had a gated parking lot for guests), who was waiting for me on this side of police tape that was surrounding the motel along with over half a dozen police cars and a coroner’s wagon due to a double homicide that had happened a few hours earlier and they wouldn’t let him get back to his room so he had to wear the same clothes from yesterday because he was at his girlfriend’s place last night and how his car was also behind the police tape and they wouldn’t let take it, either, and so he called me so he could get to work on time in a hot kitchen making Mexican food and smelling like the he had spent the night with a girl, which he had?

Nah. Don’t know what happened with the victims or why it happened or any details…

Instead, I want to talk about the young lady I picked up from her interview for an opening at some kind of campus organization at the university.  For the sake of pronouns, we’ll call her “Maya”.

“Maya” got into my car like a whirling dervish, full of energy and excitement. She was an attractive young female and a bombast. She started talking before she even got her seatbelt on.

And now we’re off to the races.

She started off with explaining to me that she was required to wear dress shoes of some kind for the interview but only had one pair and they were super high heels and she was not used to wearing high heels so she wondered if she walked in funny and because she was not used to walking in them she barely made it to the interview on time and thought she was late because when she asked where they were meeting her and she went in the room they were in their already waiting for her and she knows that on time for an interview means being ten minutes early but these high heels are so hard to walk in but after the interview she would be surprised if she didn’t get the job and the only way they wouldn’t give her the job would be because they thought she was TOO good for the position but the guy interviewing her was way cute and probably around her age which was good because she thought it might be some old guy interviewing her but it was this hottie and so she did a kind of flirt with him but not a full on flirt but you know, a professional kind of flirt and she was sure he was flirting back and she doesn’t think that’s what is going to get her the job but she wouldn’t mind getting a date because the guys she was meeting were so horrible and it was her junior year and about time she found a decent guy and since it was parents’ weekend, it would be nice to hang out with a nice guy since her mom was going to be in Alaska, come to think of it, she was in Alaska during parents’ weekend last year, too, and her parents didn’t make it to her sister’s freshman parents’ weekend, either, but her sister transferred to her university this year so they would both not have their parents there which was fine because their parents were kind of old fashioned because they had gone to a Christian college in the 80’s and never had fun so even thought she told her mom that a bunch of 20 year old boys would be hitting on her so hard, her mom said that was of no interest to her and her dad wouldn’t want to go to any frat parties even though she told him that they could shotgun beers together but dad wasn’t into it but who wouldn’t be interested in doing a beer bong at any age still her sister was there and could take her to Costco since she had a membership which was great because they could get so many things and her sister also had a car but she didn’t which is why she called for a ride share but she had always told her parents she didn’t need a car or a Costco membership because everything was so closed to campus but her sister’s last school was kind of in the middle of nowhere in Missouri but when she transferred she brought the car and the membership with her so they could have their own party this weekend and maybe find the cute boy who was part of the team that interviewed her for the job she should definitely get and she wondered if he was from the east coast because he looked and sounded very east coast, like Harvard, and she thought east coast wealthy people were so much better than west coast wealthy people and she once had a roommate from Orange County who was so awful and full of herself but she thought rich people from somewhere like New York or Connecticut were much more grounded and maybe because it was because they were from old money instead of new and she would so love to be part of that money where she could live in the Hamptons and hang around politicians and she had an ex who had gone to Harvard and got an internship with a Senator and she knew that the President had spoken at one of her ex’s classes and that going to Harvard was a ticket to becoming east coast rich and into politics but she asked him how he got his internship and he told her it was a secret and she was sure he slept with someone to get it because he’s not that smart not like the cute guy who interviewed her who was way smart and she definitely wanted to hang with him, maybe this weekend, with her sister and her if his parents were also not attending parents’ weekend and here we are at her dorm and oh my god she can’t wait to get out of these heels and thank you for the ride and hope you have a great weekend… 

And then she took a breath and I said, “you, too!”

35. Swingers

Tonight, I picked up two couples from a very nice house in the hills. They obviously had money but decided to spend it on the low end rides instead of some high class vehicle. No problem for me.

As they got in, one of the women said “you need to meet our friend. He was a cyclist in the Olympics.” 

She went on to describe him as not having full use of one leg and one arm but developed a bike where he could still ride with the best of them. 

She didn’t say his name and I tried to see if I could find him online by the description, but no luck. She told her friends that he was a very spirited guy and last time he stayed with them, he biked to the top of the  area’s highest peak and back in 100+ degree weather and rolled in around 11am, around the time the couple was waking up. She also mentioned that he liked to pull pranks on people and at one Olympics, messed around with Michael Phelps, constantly pulling pranks on him. 

She said he would be in town tomorrow staying with the and that the other couple should meet him. He we truly inspirational. He was supposed to stay with them last week, but they were at Burning Man. 

The male partner from the other couple said, “Too bad he couldn’t be here tonight to go to this party…”

And the other male added, “Doesn’t sound as much fun since it’s now only topless.”

“Yeah, I got that email,” said the other male, “I called him and asked about it and he said it was because kids were being allowed to go.”

His wife chimed in, “He’s letting his daughter attend for the first time and she’s 19. Not a kid.”

Her husband then said, “19? Then she should be good seeing it all!”

“Maybe her parents don’t need her seeing them like that…” said the other wife.

They all had a hearty laugh. 

I’m not sure what this was all about but it seems it is my fist glimpse into the swingers scene in the city.

They continued their conversation talking about all the bars we passed and who owned what and which ones were cool (the newly renovated Golden Nugget got high praise from them for the ownership and renovations) and which ones were meh. 

One of the wives said she talked “owner to owner” with one of the people who owned a bar, so I figure she must have her own establishment, but no name was mentioned. 

I dropped them off at their location, which was a few blocks from the University, and wished them a fun night and to make good choices.

The first husband, who had been sitting in the passenger seat, laughed and said, “If we made good choices, we wouldn’t be going to this place!”

They later tipped me $15 on the app. Guess they were having a good time. 

33. The Five Minute Rule

I was called to pick up a passenger and I drove to the pick up spot and parked. The rideshare I use gives passengers two minutes to get to the vehicle. After that, it gives them another five minute leeway, during which they are charged, to get to the ride. 

The two minutes waiting time passed, and I was in the five minute zone. That five minute zone can oftentimes feel like a lifetime. I have been in it often. I have had passengers come down just as the time is about to expire and I get so annoyed. After five minutes, I’m allowed to cancel the ride and get paid a cancellation fee. 

Normally, if I do not hear something from the passenger, I will cancel. But if the passenger calls or text me (via the app), I will wait. 

This passenger did not call or text. And so I left. I got a mile away when I got a notification from the same passenger still looking for a ride. I returned to the scene of the crime. 

Again, the two minute waiting period passed and I was in the five minute zone. After another three minutes the ride was canceled. Rezafraza… i get paid for the waiting time but not for the cancellation. 

I decided to wait to see if they would make another call. And sure enough, a minute later, they did. I decided to wait this time… out of spite! 

The two minute period passed, once more, again, feeling like an eternity, and now we were in the five minute zone. 

Sure enough, the time started ticking down. As it approached the last minute, I thought “Oh they’re  going to pass the five minute mark, but if I see them start walking up, I will cancel the ride and laugh in their face. Mwa ha ha!!!”

Well, I saw them walking up and then they texted me. Curses. I always say if they text me, I will respond. The passenger said “On my way”, and so I responded, “OK.” 

They got into the car and then I noticed they had two stops. They looked like they had been partaking of the marijuana a bit this evening. Probably how they missed the notifications for the last two rides.

Their first stop was a Walmart supermarket. They got out and said “I will be right back.” 

Again, for these multiple stop trips, they get a two minute leeway to do their thing and then they’re on the clock. I figured they would be on the clock for five minutes like the original ride. I’ve never had anyone push it past five on me.

But after the five minutes expired, it just kept ticking… not giving me the option of canceling. I ended up waiting 12 more minutes for them to finish their shopping. 

They got back into the car, thanking me for waiting and then we were onto the next stop. 

Of course, the next stop was a weed shop. I should have assumed as much. We got there and again they told me “I’ll just be a minute.” 

Of course, the two minutes timed out and we were into the five minute zone… except I know now that it’s not just five minutes. Well, this time they only took eight extra minutes. 

They got back in the car and the next stop was back to their apartment. I am guessing they picked up snacks from Walmart and picked up their smoke from the weed store. They were all set for the evening. 

I probably could have earned more money going out and picking up rides in the wasted time I waited for them. But I still got paid something for my time. 

And the passenger managed to arrange for themselves a night of Netflix and chill. 

Or at least the chill part. 

32. Should Mina Have a Boyfriend?

Which ride to share with you tonight…

 

How about the Afghan war veteran with PTSD, who could not go out during the day, so I dropped him and his service dog at a laundromat at midnight? He said he could only do things at night now as he hated the sun and hated seeing people in the light. I felt that way myself about being out in the daytime but I know it was no comparison to what this man was going through.

Or how about the group of drunken college kids I picked up from a bar who were complaining about a girl, will call her ‘Alaina’, and how she was picking up on every dude in the bar in front of them, despite knowing they were all her ex’s best friends, and they were going to tell him what a slut she was. They also complained about a guy, we’ll call him ‘Trevor’, who was fucking every girl he could over the last three weeks (and that was many) but telling everybody, he was in love with ‘Alaina’, who was their best friend’s ex. If ‘Trevor’ was so in love with ‘Alaina”, why was he fucking all these other girls?!? This seem to especially frustrate the guy in the front seat who said he had beaten ‘Trevor’s’ ass already, and would do it again, for being a complete douche who she leave their best friend’s ex alone, even if she was a slut. He would kick his ass if it wasn’t for all ‘Trevor’s’ frat brothers. Ah, the Greek system prevents tragedy.

But, I think I will go and share in detail my last ride of the night.

 

I picked up four students from that same bar, full of drunken country revelers. It was another “Wild Wednesday”, so I figured I would be getting a number of calls from this bar. The minute this group got into the car, the main girl who had called for the ride, we will call her ‘Mina’, started going off about how she was going home alone and how wrong that was.

 

The other three friends of hers, two girls who we will call ‘Dani and ‘Jo’, along with their male friend ‘Adam’, we’re razzing her about how she kept disappearing with guys all through the night and how she didn’t bring one of them home. She said they were all just friends. Obviously, because none of them came home with her.

 

She then started going on about how she just wanted a boyfriend. That made the two girls in the backseat very nauseous or so they said. They apparently were against the idea of boyfriends. They started to go off against men, saying boyfriends are the worst and no one should ever get married.

 

‘Adam’ asked them, “Who fucking hurt you?!?” He was astounded by how much they despised the concept of a boyfriend.

 

But ‘Mina’ said she wanted a boyfriend, or at least someone she could be with. It didn’t necessarily have to be a boyfriend, but someone she could watch sunsets with and who she could talk to.

 

They then went on to discuss the timeframe it takes for someone to be classified as “a boyfriend”. ‘Mina’ believed it should be after three dates. The others were in full disagreement. The girls thought it should take at least three months before they would say someone was their boyfriend. ‘Adam’ on the other hand said it would take him at least three months. They were all flabbergasted.

 

“How many dates was that going to be?” ‘Jo’ asked.

 

‘Adam’ asked them how many dates do you think it should be before someone should ask you to be their girlfriend.

 

‘Dani’ said “Well, at least 12 dates.”

 

“12 dates?” ‘Adam’ asked. “Is that like a date a week?

 

‘Mina’ replied, “Yes a date a week.”

 

‘Adam’ then said “Well, that would be three months then. A date a week times 12 dates is three months.”

 

‘Mina’ said, “Well, you also have to be hanging out constantly. That would make it sooner than three months. Like you don’t just see her once a week. You probably see her like five times a week.”

 

“OK,” ‘Adam’ said, “So ‘date’ doesn’t mean just hanging out. A date is a date. Like going out and doing something special. But you’re saying that we also are hanging out during the week, say, but not on any official date. Is that what you’re saying?”

 

“Yes”, ‘Dani’ replied, “And that would mean three months for you before you would officially be her boyfriend?”

 

“Well, if that was the case, and we were hanging out all the time, and getting closer and going on dates, consistently, then maybe sooner. But no earlier than a month!”

 

‘Mina’ said it shouldn’t take more than a month. “If a guy needs more than a month to become my boyfriend, he’s not the guy for me. I think it should take no more than a week.”

 

“That’s crazy!” ‘Adam’ responded. “You’ll never find a guy who will ask you to be their boyfriend in a week. OK…” he continued, “you might find that guy, but you should NOT go out with him, because he’s a lunatic.”

 

They continued to gauge how many dates versus how many days they hung out and how many hours in the day they hung out that it would take to qualify to call someone your boyfriend. ‘Adam’ told ‘Mina’ that if she really wanted a boyfriend, she should just ask a guy.

 

‘Mina’ vehemently said that she would never ask a guy to be her boyfriend. It is up to the guy.

 

I wanted to chime in and say something along the lines of “don’t we live in a modern world where women can ask men to be their boyfriends?” But I stayed quiet.

 

I pulled into their apartment complex, and they got out of the car still debating. ‘Dani’ said thank you for listening to their ranting.

 

I told them that I hoped they would find what they wanted and in the timeframe they desired.  

31. Abandoned Passengers

It has been a quiet night. Not many people were talking. But a late night pick-up made me think of a phenomenon I have encountered on a number of occasions.

 

Oftentimes I see a name come up for a ride and when I go to pick them up, it is not that person. Sometimes, parents get rides for their kids, but what I’m talking about is two adults in this situation.

 

Today, I went to pick up a passenger, let’s call him “Erik“, and when the passenger came to the car, she was definitely not an “Erik”. She was a waif, thin and sullen and dressed in an oversized army coat and ripped jeans. She approached the car and I rolled down the window and I said “Erik“? She nodded her head. I opened the door for her. She was carrying a duffel bag and a trash bag stuffed to capacity. She got into the car and said nothing.

 

I don’t make it a habit to ask my passengers personal questions. If they volunteer information, I am willing to listen to them and interact with them when they ask me questions. So, I did not ask this young lady what was going on. I asked her how she was doing, and she said “Ok” and that was the extent of our verbal exchange. She looked very sad and lay down in the backseat.

 

I took her to the location set in my app, which was in a sketchier part of town. She got out, and I waited to make sure someone greeted her at the door. Someone did and so I drove away. I wondered what had happened. Did she have a fight with “Erik”? Was he her boyfriend? Or father? Brother? Someone else?

 

This has happened to me a lot during my travels. A few weeks ago, I remember making a stop for a woman we will call “Rachel”. When the passenger got to the car, I could see he clearly was not a “Rachel”. He didn’t have the proper haircut. He was carrying two trash bags in the backpack. He got into the car, and I could see he was very angry.

 

I decided to make a joke of it and said “Hello Rachel…“

 

He replied “Rachel is my bitch of a sister…“

 

He then went on to tell me exactly how much of a bitch his sister was. How she was kicking him out of her house because he still had not found a job and how she could think he would find one so fast, it had only been six months. And she knows he can’t help pay for things like groceries and cable and his cell phone because he was going through a hard time so why is she giving him so much shit! And how dare she tell him to do things around the house like clean or do laundry! She was not the boss of him! He was the big brother!

 

The ride took about 20 minutes and he spent the whole time complaining about his sister. He told me that he was going to sleep on a friend’s couch. I wondered how long that friend would put up with his shit.

 

The other night I went to pick up a ride for someone we will call “Annika“. When the passenger arrived at my door, “Annika” was an old Latino man, complete with cowboy hat and mustache. He did not speak English. I got a text on my app from “Annika” saying this was her father and he didn’t speak much English. Just drop him off. By “didn’t speak much”, she meant none.

 

I drove him to another part of town about twenty minutes away and ended up dropping him off in front of a restaurant. I don’t know if he had a ride from there or meeting someone there as it was 11PM and the restaurant looked closed. I didn’t know what to say to him, either, as neither of us could communicate with each other. But the fact that his daughter got him a ride to a closed restaurant seemed very sad to me.

 

I have noticed this situation often: picking up women who have a man’s name listed as the passenger, or vice versa. When it happens the passengers mostly look very depressed. And, for the most part, they don’t want to talk, I’m guessing especially not to a stranger. So, I don’t hear their story.

 

I wonder if they are parents kicking out their children or children abandoning parents; siblings who have had enough of each other; or partners needing space or maybe just ending it all together. What happened to the relationship that lead to someone paying for a ride to get rid of someone else.

 

Whatever the case, they all seem to be sad stories and I am just there to drive two people away from each other… and how I can do nothing to ease their pain.

30. She Was No Scully

Whose ride should we share tonight? 

Maybe the story of the young lady I picked up from the Gentlemen's Club, who had never heard Don McLean’s “American Pie”, and was amazed by it, and asked me all kinds of questions about it and if I would play it again (which I did) before we made our first stop at the bank so she could deposit her earnings for the day, and then I took her to her dormitory at the University and told me she didn’t have to work tomorrow because she had classes all day tomorrow which seemed like more information than I needed…

How about the young man who I was going to pick up but before he got into the car asked me told me that he had lost his wallet with his ID and everything and if I could go into the dispensary and get some things for him because he only had cash. I had to decline…

Then there was the young lady I picked up who started singing along to “Say My Name”, and joined in on “My Own Worst Enemy”, and when the next song was “Flagpole, Sitta”, she asked me “what radio station is this?!?“ I told her it was my own mix, and she said “OMG, this is my jam, I am totally into the 90s!” To look at her, I would not think she had been alive for very long in the 90s, and when I dropped her off at a sorority house, I was pretty sure she was not alive at all in the 90’s. On top of it, she was a young Latina who I would not think would like Harvey Danger or Lit, but I should know never to judge a book by its cover…

No, the ride I will share with you tonight is the passenger who was not allowed to tell me a lot.

After I accepted the ride, my GPS took me on a route that was leading me south of the city. I ended up on a dark stretch of road that I was told to drive for 12 miles. As I drove down the road, it got darker and darker and at one point it was pitch black. My GPS showed me that I would be turning soon, and when I finally hit the turn, I could see lights up in the distance.

I drove towards the bright lights and could see two tents in the middle of the desert. Made me wonder if the circus was in town. But as I got closer, I could see the tents were surrounded by chain-link fence topped with razor wire. if this was a circus, it wasn’t the fun kind.

I pulled onto the side of the road outside the fence. The front gates were being guarded by men with automobile rifles. My imagination flew wondering what was on the other side of the fence and who my passenger might be. Some kind of prisoner exchange? Maybe this was a hidden drug operation and I was picking up some cartel member? Maybe a government scientist who had been experimenting on aliens?

Several other cars also pulled into the dirt lot outside the fence and picked up and dropped off people. Employees, I was guessing. But employees for who or what?

At one point, As I waited for my passenger. A couple of armored buses came through. The armed guards opened the gates and let them through. Who was in these buses? Convicts? More soldiers? Aliens?!? I was very curious if this was some kind of X-Files/Area 52 scenario going on.

My passenger finally approached the car and got in. We exchanged pleasantries and she said she was just getting off work. It was 11pm. I felt that opened the door, and I oh so coyly asked her “Oh, what do you do for work?”

The only thing she could say was that she was doing housekeeping. I told her I had worked in hotels and was familiar with housekeeping and it was a hard job in any situation. 

She told me that the housekeepers here were paid $22 an hour and receive full federal benefits. They were well paid housekeepers. Better than the housekeepers at any hotel.

If I knew any interested housekeeper looking for better paying work, her organization was looking to hire more people. The size of the facility was going to be doubled in a month. She then told me a website that I could send people to apply for the job, but she warned me that they would have to go through a very thorough federal screening.

I thanked her for the info and told that I would pass it along. She told me that they work in three shifts around the clock, including overnights. Their job is never done. People were expected to work any of the shifts tans that sometimes overtime was necessary and it would mean a double shift. people were expected to work in full eight-hour shifts. 

She said that if someone did sign up for the job and they were given an appointment to meet for an interview, it might be in an unusual location. It was only because of the nature of the job.

The rest of the ride was pretty quiet. She had been very serious in her tone, and I was not going to press her for more information. It made me wonder though, what kind of housekeeping she was doing for the Feds. What was she cleaning up for them? Alien guts? Bodies?

I thought of going to the website and applying for the job. To see what the feds were up to out in the desert.

29. Celebrating Life

What ride should I share with you tonight?

There was the large man I picked up from his job, that he got off early from, who looked like he could have been my younger brother, and who told me he was going home to take a hot bath, he then described in detail to me with bubbles, candles, and a glass of wine, almost as if he were inviting me to come along with him . Or maybe I read into it too much.

Then there was the young lady and her boyfriend, who I picked up from the movie theater after watching “The Nun 2”. She was going on about how the movie had scared the bejesus out of her, so when we pulled up to her apartment complex, I decided not to tell her about the homeless woman who was standing out by the front entrance, wearing a tattered black dress and looking a little frightening.

No, I think I will share the story of the woman. I picked up late in the evening who came into my car, crying. Two family members had helped her into the car because she had been crying so much and also gave her a bunch of Tupperwared food. One of them asked me to make sure she got home ok.

As we drove away, she apologized for her crying and said it had been a very sad day for her. She told me that her mother had died that day around 3 AM. The family had gathered together to have dinner and mourn her.

She then told me that her mother was 93 and had eight children and many grandchildren and great grandchildren. Her father had passed years ago but they had been married for over sixty-five years and have lived here for their entire lives.

Her mother had raised the kids while her father worked, and they had paid for them all to go to college because they wanted them to have a good education and a strong foundation to start their own families on.

She said her mother had never done anything significant but that she raised a family. I told her that sounded pretty significant to me.

The family had all gotten together tonight to mourn and, as is usually the case with her family, it turned into a potluck party, which is why she had all the food. I told her that it seemed more like a celebration of her mother’s life than a mourning. She laughed and said that is exactly what it was.

I dropped her off and helped her take all the food inside her condo.

When I got back into my car, I thought of my mom and how happy I was to have gotten to see her last week.

28. NSFW

WARNING: EXTREME PROFANITY AHEAD.

Which ride should I share with you tonight?

The one where the guy I picked up who smelled like he bathed in tobacco juice and said that he had been invited to this party he was at by a girl who could have been his granddaughter, but she didn’t care, but then ditched him at the party and that’s why he had to ride share home?

Or how about the bartender I picked up from the strip club where she was getting off work and told me she was turning 34 next week and going to Vegas with some friends, but didn’t feel like it and would rather stay home with her dogs and asked me if this made her old… 

No, I think I will talk about the lady who seem to have a lot of issues with her ex who ended up getting married to a woman 20 years younger than her but told me that she and her ex were still having sex because he begged her for it and she liked to fuck.

I picked up this woman and right after she got in the car, she immediately started yelling, “That cheating motherfucker ain’t coming with me tonight!” 

Then she looked at me and said, “Oh look, I’m sorry if you’re a Reverend or a pastor…”

I smiled and shook my head. And then she continued…

“That cheating motherfucker wanted to come with me, but I told him he could keep his cheating ass at home. He can wait for his trophy wife to come home from the bars!”

I was a little confused as I thought this guy was cheating on her.  

Then, without me having to ask, she elaborated… 

“That cheating motherfucker is my ex and he and I are still fucking. But he’s an old fuck who married a woman 20 years younger than him and he is bitching that she will not cook or clean anything. She just likes to go out to bars and party! But he doesn’t like to go with her because he feels like an old man because all of her friends have young boyfriends and he feels like an old fuck around them which he fucking is! Fuck him… that’s his fucking choice. He decided to go for a trophy wife twenty years younger than him! He couldn’t stand to be with a real woman! But he old, and think old, and I don’t think like that! I want to fuck every day, and he can’t do that anymore, which is one of the problems he’s having with his young wife cuz she wanna fuck and fuck but not cool and clean. He married that bitch thinking she would be a good little wife for him and take care of the house and do his laundry and cook his meals and she doesn’t do shit. I warned him about that shit years ago but he fucking didn’t listen to me but still calls me because she don’t fuck him no more. He hired someone to clean the house and I was like what the fuck you paying someone to do that shit when you married this bitch and pay for everything and she don’t do shit. So he call me up to bitch about the bitch and get his fuck on. I told him after we fucked tonight I was going out! He wasn’t even no good. And it’s Friday night and I ain’t staying in with that cheating motherfucker. I may be older in years, but I am younger in spirit! He just married that child because he has issues with, I can’t remember what it’s called, when old men want to think they’re younger. Well, fuck him, I’m meeting friends and we’re going to go out barhopping! It’s Friday night and I got no time for that cheating motherfucker.”

This woman put Samuel L. Jackson to shame. I can’t even remember if she took a breath during her rant because it was quite soliloquy and she definitely needed to get it off her chest.

She went on and on about how stupid and immature he was. She had some choice words for his young wife as well. I said nothing at all.

We arrived at the bar that she entered as her destination. It was quite a dive in one of the scarier parts of town. She called one of her friends and I parked and let her make the call.

The person she was talking to was apparently the man’s niece, as I could hear her call him “uncle”.

The woman asked the niece if she was already at the bar. She said she was still on her way and asked if the uncle was going, too. The woman then reiterated how that cheating motherfucker can stay at home and keep his dick in his pants. The niece was in agreement.

The woman got out and thanked me for the ride. She apologized for her language but said that that cheating motherfucker deserved every word of it.

I can’t say I disagreed with her.

27. Looking for Mr. Goodbar

Which ride should I share with you tonight? 

Maybe I should share about the carload of scantily clad drunk girls who were rushing a sorority and one of their assignments was to go get food for some guy in a fraternity. And apparently all of the girls rushing a sorority this week had to wear bikini tops and short skirts. These four girls were doing just that… one of them with a skirt that was way too short. I wanted to warn her of what she was showing but I felt that would be inappropriate. They had gotten into the car very rambunctiously, trying to squeeze five in (I told them four was the limit and they grumbled) but got out very politely, thanking me for the ride. They then went to go order late night chicken for some frat guy who was probably bragging to his bros that he had a bunch of pretty girls at his beck and call. 

Maybe I should share about the carload of drunken women I picked up from their dorm, two of which wanted to go to ‘Bags (short for “Dirtbag’s”) and two of them wanted to go to “Pigs“ (which I don’t know what it is short for)… They were screaming and yelling at each about where to go the whole ride. The car rocked back and forth as I drove. The one who had made the ride threatened that if there was a line at ‘Bags, she would change the destination in a heartbeat. There WAS a line, but I ended the ride before she could change the destination. Oops. Gotta get out, ladies.

How about I share about the 60-something year old gentleman I picked up from a bar wearing his “NOT TONIGHT LADIES“ shirt? He had a fun drunken time at the bar and was happy for ride share drivers who drove him home when he was drunk and would never make them change the radio or turn on the AC or do anything other than drive because it was their car and he was appreciative… as we pulled up to his house he asked me if I wanted a bump to get me through the knife. I politely declined.

No, I think I will share with you the tale of the young woman I picked up from work so that I could take her home. I asked her how she was, and she told me her fiancé was supposed to pick her up, but he had forgotten. That sounded ominous. 

She started the conversation very pleasantly, with the customary “where are you from” and “how long have you been driving”, etc. etc. She said she had just been in San Diego last week with her dad and they had taken a ride share where the driver was a 71-year-old man who had been driving for four years now. Her father was also 71 and the two old men struck up a conversation and apparently built up quite a friendship during the ride.

She told me that driving people must be wonderful and relaxing. She said that the driver in San Diego really liked meeting people and talking to them. He was retired and driving was very relaxing for him and a way to get out of the house.

I told her driving was very relaxing to me, as well, and that was one of the main reasons I enjoyed it. I told her I also liked to meet people and talk to them… but not everybody likes to talk. She told me, she’s one who likes to talk! I told her to feel free.

She started by asking me what music I liked, and I told her everything and she said she did, too. She then asked me if I liked to dance, and I told her I did but have two left feet and zero coordination so I can’t do any practical dances. She told me there was a place she went to that taught all kinds of dance moves, a Fred Astaire Dance Studio or something. She said she liked to dance but wasn’t good at it, but she learned a little.

She then went on to tell me that she thought she should call off the engagement with the new boyfriend. This was kind of out of the blue, but I remembered the tone she had when she talked about how he forgot to pick her up, so I should have been expecting it. 

They had only been dating for a couple of months when he popped the question. While it seemed very sudden to her, she had said yes because she felt that maybe it could work and that she was getting up there in years.

I had to ask the forbidden question, “How old are you?!?”

I figured she was in her mid to late 20s. She said she was 37. I was a little flabbergasted. She did not look or sound it. She was so happy and upbeat… I figured in your late 30’s, you develop that cold cynicism.

She said that her age was one of the reasons that she thought she should get married. She still wanted to have children. But she didn’t want to marry the wrong person. Her mother had also told her that she shouldn’t get married unless she felt it was right and that’s how her parents had been married for nearly 50 years. I told her I agreed.

She then said that this was her third engagement. I was a little astounded. I asked her if she was the one who had called them off or if the guy had. I probably should’ve kept quiet but couldn’t help myself. She said she was the one who ended things both times. She told me that she had felt bad about both broken engagements because her parents had put money into the weddings and now that money was wasted. But she reminded me that her mother had told her to not get married unless she was absolutely sure that it was the right man.

She called off the first one because he wasn’t the man that she thought he was after they got engaged. He was a nice enough man, he hadn’t done anything abusive, but he changed after they got engaged. He was still nice and all but there were things she noticed and a big one was how he viewed God, something very important to her.

While they were dating, he was always going to church every week and talked about his closeness with God. But after they got engaged, he stopped going to church. Not altogether but stopped going weekly and he would just go on the holiday occasions. His tone about religious things had changed and he was not interested in raising their kids to be Christian. This was the dealbreaker for her as she definitely wanted her kids to be Christian.

The second engagement was called off because her fiancé‘s mother had been mean to her. She gave me a few examples. The mother would always make comments about her body size saying that her son normally liked girls who were more petite. From what I had seen of the woman when she got into the car, she was pretty petite. A size 2 or 4 maybe. She was also a brunette and the mother told her that her son normally likes blondes. I agreed that those were very rude things to say. She said the mother always would say, “I’m just saying…” after making those kinds of comments.

She had tried to get along with the mother. She arranged for them to go out to dinner together for the mother’s birthday. The mother resisted, saying that it was a waste of money to go to some fancy restaurant, when they could eat at home, but the girl said it was her pleasure to do this.

When they got to the restaurant, she saw the woman was there as well and said “Oh, I didn’t think you were going to be at my birthday as well.” The whole thing had been the younger woman’s idea in the first place.

Apparently, the fiancé never stood up for her. One Christmas, the mother had bought her a dress. The girl noticed the dress was two sizes too small for her and told the mom that she would not be able to get into it at this time.

The mother commented, “Well maybe this will be incentive for you to do something about that. But please try it on and see if you can get into it. I would like to see what it looks like.”

She tried to say no over and over but the mother was insistent. She finally got into it and the mother brought her downstairs to show the other people who were there for Christmas and said to them, “I told you she wouldn’t fit into it… but maybe this will be incentive for her to do something about it as a New Year’s resolution for my son.”

She said that to the entire group. I told her that I could understand why she would call off the engagement after that.

As we reached the end of the ride, she told me that still wanted to get married and was thinking this third guy might still have a chance. He was nice and working and churchgoing and this was really his first strike.

She smiled and winked at me, and I laughed out loud. I wished her the best and told her she was the most upbeat passenger I had ever had, and her positive spirit was intoxicating and a joy. And I said to only get married if you were absolutely sure. She said God would let her know as well.

I hope the next time she calls her fiancé needing a ride that he doesn’t forget.

And that God makes sure he remembers.