Uber Love Stories

Today’s post is a S/O to the past few Ubers I’ve taken and the drivers that give their two cents along the way.  Yesterday, I happened to take three Ubers.  Am I rich? Hell no. So I’m not exactly sure why I thought that was okay, but I just got paid on Friday so why walk?!

Anyway, now that I’m hungover on this gray Sunday morning, I’m reflecting on yesterday’s rides, my negative bank account balance, and the drivers who analyzed my current state of life.

Uber #1 – from my apartment in NYC to Penn Station.  I could have easily walked this distance, but I lost track of time and was about to miss the train.  There was traffic in midtown so I ended up having to walk half of the distance anyway. #fail But when I got in the car, the driver politely said “Traveling alone today, miss?”

“Yes, heading out of town for the night”

“Oh, pretty girl like you must be going to see your boyfriend, no?” (I blush, until I realize that this is just not the case).

“Nope, just heading to my parents house..”  And he didn’t respond, so we drove the rest of the way in silence.

Uber #2 – from my parents’ house to a friend’s apartment.  I got picked up in a Toyota Sienna by a nice grandpa named Gerry.  I get in the van and Gerry asks, “Just the two of you, tonight?”  Um, well it’s just me, alone, so I’m not sure who Gerry thought I was with, and I am now wondering if I should hop out before the drive begins.

Gerry then sees that I am carrying a bottle of wine and nicely asks “Oh, is today a date night?”

“Nope, just a night with my girlfriends, Gerry.”

“Oh, well if I was your age, I would be happy to take you out for date night.”  Luckily we have arrived at our destination.  Goodnight, Gerry.

Uber #3 – from the bar back to my parents’ house, circa 2am.  It’s last call and I take a look around.  There are no potential boyfriends at this bar unless I’m into the juicehead/Guido look (hard pass).  My friends were nowhere to be seen, so I load up the Uber app and Earl is going to arrive in three minutes.  Enough time for me to close up my tab and call it a night.

Earl is waiting for me in a black suburban and offers me a water bottle to ease tomorrow’s hangover. How thoughtful.  Earl then asks, “So why you alone, where’s da boyfriend?”  Back off, Earl. Touchy subject.  I complain to Earl that I’m single, and there is no boyfriend.

Earl turns around, sizes me up and says “You’re too tall and us guys, we don’t like girls too tall.  So that’s why you don’t have a boyfriend, tall girl like you is intimidating.”  Now what, Earl?  What’s the solution here?

Might as well sit here and eat another piece of french toast and enjoy my Sunday morning with Mom and Dad…

And about 15 minutes after I originally posted this, our handyman asked me, “¿Tienes un novio todavía?” aka “Do you have a boyfriend yet?”  No, Jose, no tengo un novio.


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