her name was star, she ordered a priority ride. it was also surging, so i would get an extra $6 for the trip from los feliz’ house of pies to downtown.
am i that easily bribed by a mere $6? oui.
uber has lowered its minimum cut to drivers down to $3.20 for the shortest rides, so if i can get the equivalent of two shorties (which at it’s fastest takes about 15 minutes each) in one bonus/bribe alone, then sure, lets roll.
she was so beautiful, like woah. by now you know they all are.
before her was a conga line of precious hearts and pure souls:
the hungover gay dude at 11am, who stunk like he had danced all night with other sweaty dudes, then napped in his shirt at dawn,
the grandma and her grandson who needed to go to the craft store so she could show him how to use a glue gun, a product he insisted was fictional
the two-day drunk, oddly aggressive flirtatious sorority girls had their minds blown when i told them i was probably older than their parents.
daddy? giggled the one with heavy eyes and a pronounced slur rocking a usc song-girl skirt and a stained crop top. i lifted my cubs cap revealing my shiny bald dome and said, this is due to reagan, two bushes and trump: don’t experiment in the ballot box ladies or this will happen to you
poor daddy, she gasped, shielding her eyes from the glare
siri, who is ray gunn? the other asked her watch
i had made aboutten trips before i made it to la’s last standing house of pies. all lovely trips, but star was different.
she wore bright yellow under eye patches causally as if they were accessories. boss bitch energy. she was the main character. diva in the cutest way. asian, well dressed, 28. barely looked 20.
i was quickly a fan. and told her so. and she flashed her pearly whites which were being aided by either a night guard or invisalign.
star was heading to work as a concierge at a swanky dtla hotel.
since i had recently lived with a top tier la luxury hotel concierge for four years, star and i had a lot to gab about.
tell me about your perks, i demanded. curious, because i could be tempted to take on that gig if it meant free or cheap stays in hotels around the globe.
my property is partnered with hilton, star said, beaming beneath her closed eyes, fully reclined in the corner of the Benz’ back seat. i can get a room for $15 or $20 in most cities, even during holidays, she said, hiltons be errrrrywhere.
omg. tell me youve been on some epic road trips, i asked all giddy, hoping she wanted to keep talking and not nap for our 18 minutes trip. i love to hear from hoteliers.
none she admitted, poking her bottom lip out. none.
wtf is wrong with your boyfriend? i asked, telling her that when amber was working for hilton and later waldorf we went north, south, east…. mmmmm east to the la quinta, not the chain,
the resort with Too Many Pools.
how they all got there is beyond me, but like every 150 feet theres a different pool and hot tub situation. 41 in total.
and a starlight casita on the second level with high balconies where if you’re with the right person, who wouldn’t mind it if whoops you lost your pants on the way to the private balcony deck in the absolute darkness
because somehow you can see the dazzling stars better that way i learned first hand
i dont have a boyfriend, my knockout passenger whispered.
i paused and said, oh im so sorry, i am so presumptuous. i just assumed i had miss little tokyo in here and that you’re beating off guys left and right while they tried to woo you from your man
beating off? she asked, eyes wide open
bursting with laughing at my word choice.
i joined in the lols
she readjusted, pressed down on the eye patches and sang: yeah no.
the way she said it made me ask, wait you like girls?
star lit up and said, fucking love women, grasping her chest. eyelashes fluttering. heart emojis floating above her head.
more laughing as we rollicked over potholes, uneven roads and past gritty DTLA.
in previous weeks i would have delved deeper down this conversational path because who doesnt like to hear sex stories from strangers? but any time i lay in my bed thinking about the day, i worry that i probe too much.
who wants to be that guy who makes people even the slightest bit uncomfortable?
these rides are relatively short. but if they get to release something buried inside them with a driver who doesnt judge, everyone wins.
still, i changed the subject to my podcast and told her some of my favorite moments have been when people talk about love and attraction.
and coming out stories are usually great.
facts, she said and asked for the name of the podcast. when i told her she pulled it up and saw how many episodes ive done and the length of some of the podcasts.
do you write? she asked as we pulled into the garage of the five-star hotel-lined with uniformed gentlemen.
who doesnt? i said.
me too, she laughed as we came to the stop.
i unlocked the doors and asked, what about?
sex, she said and got out.