It’s a drunk Friday night in your favorite city. The bars are flipping their lights on, people are paring up, and it’s time for your group to catch a ride home. In 2015, Uber seems to be the way to go. You pull out your phone, request a ride, bitch about the surge price (2.5 FYI), and make your way to the street to get in some stranger’s car. Maybe though, as you stand in the cold trying to decide which black sedan is your black sedan, you start to wonder what your Uber driver is really thinking. Well, let me tell you:
“Please God, let someone in this group be coherent enough to give me a real address.”
There’s nothing more frustrating for a driver than a group of drunken passengers who can’t give a proper address. I’ve been asked to take passengers to “the house by the gas-station,” “Jeremiah’s apartment,” and my personal favorite, “1600 Pennsylvania Avenue.” Your driver, be it taxi or ride share, isn’t your mother and if you can’t tell them where you live don’t be shocked if they kick you to the curb.
“No, you can’t have the auxiliary cord to play your music.”
That’s what he’s thinking as your driver hands the cord to the drunkest of the pack. “Should I just drive off this bridge?” he thinks next — as the ringleader turns the volume all the way up and begins to blare Remix To Ignition. The driver actually swerves to the right a little as the girl sitting directly behind him attempts to sing the lyrics that she clearly doesn’t know.
“No, I’m sorry, I don’t have a phone charger for ALL FOUR of you.”
I know, I know. It’s late. Your phone and his phone and her phone and that girl who somehow just ended up with you’s phone are all down to 2%. But your driver only has one iPhone 5 charger. “Sorry.” That’s literally all he can say…even if you are threatening to give him three stars for it.
“Yeah, I would love to drive you to McDonald’s, and it would be my pleasure to ask for four separate orders.”
Seriously, don’t even ask. And if you do ask — you’d better offer to buy your driver a ten piece and leave a cash tip.
“I will throw your girlfriend out the door if she vomits in my car.”
That’s what your driver is thinking as the schwasty blonde starts screaming to roll down the windows because she’s going to be sick. Maybe she’d feel better if you hadn’t dared her to order a McRib. Also, don’t throw up in or on the car — just try your best to give the driver a chance to pull over. “Bye, Felicia,” he thinks as he imagines driving away without your happy gang.
“I really DON’T want to know what you’re going to do to her tonight…”
Don’t forget that your driver does have ears and he knows what you’re talking about back there. He can hear every dirty secret you whisper in each other’s ears; he understands your code of what your about to do to each other, and, most importantly, he can see you when you start your late-night activities early. He’ll kick you out. Trust me, he’s done it before.
“How much further? This ride could literally not be over soon enough.”
“Also, I hate you.”
“GET THE HELL OUT”
That’s the last thing he thinks as he swerves up to your building, hardly stopping for you to get out. “Freedom!” he screams when the door finally closes behind you. And as you walk to your door he’ll take a deep breath and wait for the beep signifying that a new ride is waiting somewhere close.
That’s what he’ll think when he realizes that the next ride is at the same building…it’s actually you again. You locked yourself out. And then…
He cancels the ride, speeds away, and calls it a night. “Wow, people are…people.”