before we unscientifically speculate, let me say this: i have a 4.98 rating. i do hundreds of trips a month. you’re bound to have a clunker now and then.
also, as you could guess, i have a big fucking mouth filled with dad jokes. and i ask probing questions because i’m nosy AF bc i love people and am dying to learn everything about you.
Everything.
i am a sponge. i have the memory of one too. so i need you to spell it out to me, slowly, and with great detail because i need to remember the big parts of it for when i get home and write them down on here.
in an ideal world, i’d put a microphone in the back seat and record what people say, but that’s where the exhibitionist lives, not honesty.
i am due to have a few bad reviews but i care deeply about them. i never cared about grades in school. i never cared about the comments in the pieces i’ve written.if someone disses me on twitter, it doesn’t phase me. but for some reason i really give a shit about the feedback in my rideshare. it makes no sense.
all day today i wondered: which asswipe last week gave me 1 star?
obviously it could have been anyone for any reason. uber doesn’t tell us who they are or why i got the bad review because we know where you people live.
the only time they’ve ever fessed up was last month when someone whined because the pickup pin they dropped was not at the bus stop where they were waiting. uber acknowledged that it wasn’t my fault but refused to remove the poor rating from my tally. so that was #1.
numero d’oh were these silver lake frat boys going to venice beach. they were very loud, very demanding, machismo up to the sky, but they met their match when the guy next to me asked for my AUX cord so he could play terrible music at loud volumes.
i explained i didn’t have a cord in the benz (the c250 is equipped with Bluetooth, peasants).
also, never touch a black man’s stereo.
when i said that, i looked at the lone brother in the back and said, “correct”?
i did generously allow them, however, to smoke weed in my car, when they asked nicely, since they were using a vape delivery system.
you’d have thought that that would have made us all friends, but apparently someone was still butthurt when the ride was over. so that was #2.
now who could have been the third one?
was it the priest of the russian orthodox church in east hollywood? picked him up in a pretty nice little house in echo park. it was under a name that didn’t appear to be him. did a nun order it for him?
when i arrived, i parked right in front of the door and after three minutes he poked his head out from the fence, looked around, and went back inside. so when it was time to cancel, i canceled, was credited $3.87, and sped off.
before i got around the corner, i got the ping again from the same spot. this is a risky move because now they might be pissed.
but i have a right to be pissed too, because time is precious and in my mind you shouldn’t order a car unless you are ready. furthermore, your honor, it will not kill you to wait outside when you see the car is approaching. so making a dude wait 5 minutes is bad enough, but to still not get in the car after it arrives, removes your “right” to be pissed at the driver.
logic doesn’t always factor in to these things, which is why wise drivers never go back to the address where they just cancelled. i’m the opposite of wise.
smart drivers know if you take that trip, he can give you a bad rating when it’s over, but he can’t do so on the cancellation.
but i liked the offer the first time, i liked it again the second time and i was right there. the padre was on the phone the whole time speaking Russian. and when he got out of the car, a military dude was waiting for him in the parking lot and mama mia. a bad rating was suddenly the least of my fears. yet i survived.
another suspect was a friend of a concert promoter. i picked him and his gorgeous wife up far away from the east, near where they want to build a bullet train to Vegas.
it was warm, but not hot out there, yet still he asked if i could blast the AC. which i did. it was an hour ride.
wifey and i had a great convo. he was playing games on his phone and then watching the NBA playoffs annoyingly loud. as we got near the venue i said, you two must have the best juju because i’ve never seen traffic so light around this facility this close to showtime. or, maybe your buddy dropped the ball on this show and no one is gonna be here.
when i said it i thought, please laugh, please laugh. there was no laugh.