last night i drove about 12 hours with one break to do a live fantasy draft that took 2 hours. probably shouldnt have done that draft but ive been in that league a long time.
anyways now im vulnerable to attacks. i put my apple juice glass on the oven and somehow it appeared in the living room. to quote the pixies where is my mind.
i did 25 rides yesterday. and murphys law some of them went from one end of the world to the other.
rarely does a driver root for short trips but i sure as hell was these last two days (in order to get the 100 trips in a week = cash bonus) and murphy had other ideas.
the most classic thing happened in the middle of the night last night when i felt like i needed to do something different to get more than one trip and hour.
the goal of the day was 25 because i was pretty sure i had 80 going into Saturday but you never know what Ubes might disqualify so basically shoot for 105 if the goal is 100. by 9pm i was at 16. 9 to go.
so i headed to DTLA in hopes of getting people going from hotels to bars and back again. usually around 9pm if youre in DTLA you’re not like going to the beach or anything – youre staying downtown.
but before i could get there i picked up two kids near my house who wanted to go to the Roost. well hell, i used to live in Atwater back in the day, so we were talking about earthquakes and Go Bags and everything is fine until i see that i am getting a new ping before i drop off the Roost kids, which is bad news because it’s coming from Glendale and Glendale isnt in the area where the rides qualify for the bonus. it would basically just eat away at my remaining time all for $6. or worse, what if they wanted to go even further out of the area? oy.
so i drop off the kids and head north to glendale. all the while thinking, please cancel, please cancel. ive heard tell of drivers who will just drive the other way and indirectly force the rider to cancel – that way the trip doesn’t count against the drivers’ acceptance rate.
but as Christian as i am, i suppose i do believe in a sense of karma, and it’s not like i believe God watches me when i uber (although he Should – it’s hilarious) i do thank him before and after every ride and i do think that if he saw me acting a fool, he’d be disappointed in his favorite xbi agent.
i have been given a lot of cool things in my life and i treat them as if they were sent from above, which im pretty sure they are, so i do my best not to engage in dickish moves
so i pick up the guy. he’s much older than my usual late night uber passenger. 55? either persian or armenian. whenever he was speaking his language every now and then id hear “merci” which is not just french, but it’s persian which is even older than french, so maybe he was persian. who cares.
i see where we are going and its sunset blvd. west hollywood. back in the zone but mama mia, 25 minutes. what you want are 7 minute rides, not whoppers which suck up half of your hour. youre looking for 3 rides an hour knowing you’ll prob get 2. but 2 an hour means you’ll be driving till 1am. and you’re already pooped.
ok, whatevs, poor me ive gotta go to the sunset strip on a saturday. i fucking love the sunset strip on a saturday. lets rock.
then he says, oh, we have to make one stop.
no, no stops. half of my hour. wtf nooooo.
sure, where are we Stopping
i say trying not to air my grievance
turn right here in this alley
perfect. murdered just 8 trips away from my bonus. actually i had heard glendale does have its share of crime. alright. see you in heaven lemmy!
we go in an alley. no ones there. i say ghosts cost extra. he goes to his phone and calls someone and a young hot babe comes out. may i interject this older guy does smell really good. a curious blend of talcum powder and old spice, but it works for some reason.
she gets in and she never stops talking. in whatever language it is. somehow i deduce they’re getting tattoos. somewhere along the way he questions my route. he laughs as he says it. i say, my man, we’ll go any way you want. he says how long you uber? i say two years. he says oh a long time. cool. it’s ok.
two years is a long time? 25 minutes is even longer old spice guy and on the way i figure out the gameplan: as soon as i drop them off imma go to UCLA and take the sorority girls across campus to the frat houses. probably the most annoying thing when theres not a bonus, but exactly what is needed to get a bunch of short rides, lets just hope a princess doesnt hurl during the journey.
drop them off and boss gives me a $5 tip. awwwwwww. i flip over to Select Only that way if i do get pinged on my way it’s worth it (3x the price) – and get to UCLA in minutes. lurk down sorority row, nothing. head over to the W because theres no Select cars there and wait. get an X ping from the W at 2x surge. fine. even if its a long ride at least ill get paid.
very handsome young couple going from the w to a bar on pico. perfect. 7 minutes, theyre talkative, its date night. he could be a male model. shes beaming and dressed to kill. fun. great. Westwood!
until i drop them off and i get pinged. the call is coming from inside the bar. awesome. i dont even have to move! they come out, i click to see where we are going. San Pedro!
im devistated. ive been driving every night all week. and there it is late and night and ive gotta schlep to pluto. home of Watt, but still.
fine. lets do this. it’s mostly freeway. it’s late. we are a car pool, it’s dark. we’re wearing sunglasses.
the pair had just been to a murder mystery night where they got fed, drank, solved the murder and then had a nightcap before heading back home down in pedro.
i ask them if theyve been to bukowskis grave down there, they say no. i try to explain how he was americas finest poet last century but that sounds like he wore a powdered wig so we start talking about OJ.
dude says he was 12 when the OJ trial was happening and he asked for a got a $30 set of Pogs back then that had all the cast of characters of the OJ trial and Judge Ito was the slammer pog. i told him i am a million years old, i was certainly not 12 during that time and i have no clue what pogs are or were and the most fascinating thing happened, me and the young lady agreed that OJ was probably not the murderer. she says that when she was 12 and the trial was going on she was on vacation and just happened to run into two LA law enforcement ppl who were all, on separate occassions, mind you, OJ was framed. where was all the blood? what was the motive? jealousy? how many celebrities break up and nothing happens compared to how many celebrities break up and theres a double murder: zero.
so the trip to pedro was worth it because now i dont feel so alone. dropped them off went to the 7-11, got a brownie and a fruit punch Mountain Dew because it was gonna be a long night. and it was. but i got it.