The Things People Talk About...

Last night's UBER ride produced yet another revelation on what people will talk about right in front of their driver. First, let's face it. I'm in the car. I'm not invisible so every topic is easily heard. I wouldn't get to share these stories if people actually cared that I could hear them. 

Yesterday three openly gay young men got in my car. I had no question about their sexual orientation based on their behavior, and frankly I don't care anyway. So, they're laughing and talking about various discussions. One mentions his parents are from Merced (and so is my mom). I chime in and share that my mom heralds from there, too. 

Somehow the conversation weaves around and I mention I am from Galt. One of the men then tells me how he almost got busted for urinating in public (indecent exposure) in Galt. First, okay ... that's your fond memory of my little town. I had to laugh. Why would you need to urinate in public here anyway? You know gas stations are right up the road. 

Then he mentions how he was offended because the cop said something along the lines about how his friend who was with him could "hold it for him". Okay, so the young man is offended over the cops remark LOL... yeah, guess what! I'm offended you couldn't find a public restroom! Do these guys not understand there are kids all OVER the place around here? In fact, on Halloween I have a literal line to my door. 

So, there you have it. What people tell me during an UBER ride! 

My Mother Blocked Me!

A young woman who actually told me she was 30-years old gets in the car obviously drunk.

“I drank a lot. But don’t worry! I already threw up twice,” she admits as she slurs her words.

“Oh, um, please don’t throw up in my car,” I said urgently not wanting the smell or the mess in my Camry. The way I foresaw it: no more rides for the night and a ghastly odor that only Fabreeze and carpet cleaner would remove.

“Oh, no, no, I wouldn’t do that to you,” she says like we’re old chums.

I turned to look back at her to assess just how drunk she must be and bet on whether her chummy response really meant anything. She’s got her Smart Phone in hand and is plunking away at it. She looks okay. So, I drive…

Pretty soon I hear her belligerently cussing into the phone. I can’t (and won’t) share the nasty language she used, but it was profane and harsh. She hangs up and groggily declares, “That was my mother! Can you believe she blocked me? My own mother!”

I wanted so badly to say, “Yes, I would block you too!” What I did say is, “If she blocked you she won’t get that message.” (This information doesn’t deter her from calling her mother three more times.)

Then … she plunks away and makes yet another phone call. NOW she is yelling and carrying on into the phone to an answering machine. And guess who this person is? You got it: HER FATHER. Now she rants and raves to Dad … about her mother blocking her.

And that Friend-Os is but a taste of the funny stories that will appear on the blog. Between the absurdity of it and the offensiveness of it, I definitely had my eyebrows raised. Oh, and she asked me to “drop her anywhere.” I declined not wanting to leave her randomly on some street corner – turned out her apartment was over a mile up the road. It’s a good thing I have better judgment than to listen to a drunken woman.