Memoirs of an Uber Driver, Vol. 1


I pick him up just after midnight on a bridge overlooking the river. He’s far away from any businesses or residences, and he’s alone. One wonders what brought him out here tonight. He leans in through the window to check that this is his ride. He has a goatee, a wallet chain, and a shirt from a metal band I’ve never heard of.

“How’s your night going?” I ask when he gets in.

Instead of offering up the usual dismissive script, he looks pensively out the window and really considers the question.

“I guess it’s been all right,” he decides aloud, seeming to choose each word carefully. “Just trying to listen to the planets and the stars, you know? Trying to feel what the universe wants me to do and do it to the best of my abilities.”

Six minutes later I drop him off at the titty bar.


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