Tag Archives: austin

My First Uber Trick

images     I’m always looking for ways to supplement my income so that I don’t have to be away from home so much. I freelance photography jobs. I wrote a book. I made an app. I’ve even been a substitute teacher, but only for the tiny kids that are still afraid of adults and don’t know how to talk back.
When Uber became a thing, I was interested straight away. It sounded perfect until I read that drivers must have a four-door car and it must be newer than 2010. My crappy little Civic was two-door and a 2005. There went that idea. Plus I heard that Austin Uber drivers were getting busted by undercover cops posing as riders because technically Uber driving is illegal.
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They must have sorted that out with the taxi contingent because I started hearing about people using Uber all over the Austin area and no one had heard about drivers getting in trouble anymore. Sweet.

When I had enough money saved I got a new car, my first brand new car ever. I made sure it had four doors. I bought a fancy edition Toyota Rav 4 with all the bells and whistles. This is the first time in my life that I’ve owned a car where you can open and close the windows by pushing a button rather than cranking a crank.
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I started all the paperwork and background checks and within a week I was cleared to go. I watched a 20 minute long instructional video on how it works from the drivers’ perspective and I thought I had it down. Still though, I had already decided that my first fare would be my girlfriend since she’s an expert on the Uber thing from the riders’ side of it. I figure I could take her out to a nice dinner, pay for everything, then she could “hire” me to take her home. That way I can figure out the Uber app and get a perfect rating to my name in the process. It was a fool-proof plan.

Last night we put it into action. We weren’t really feeling a fancy dinner so we did Olive Garden instead. We got seated in a booth in the bar area by four screaming meth addicts, one of which was very pregnant. I wondered if any of them knew who the father was. The table on the other side of them demanded to be moved because of how rowdy they were. My girlfriend nearly went off on them but I begged her not too because one of the guys was showing the others how you can turn two Olive Garden steak knives and a breadstick into a makeshift double-edged sword. I found him to be the most normal of the four.
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That group finally finishes up and leaves in a Tasmanian devil whirl. The waiters apologize profusely about their behavior. Never in a million years would I think that those toothless rednecks would fail to be the weirdest thing about our night. I hit the button on the Uber app that says, “GO ONLINE.”

My girlfriend logs on and checks out the Uber car situation from her phone. There isn’t alot of activity in far North Austin at 11pm on a Tuesday night so we put the plan into action. She presses the button to request a ride and immediately my phone buzzes. I see the request and quickly accept the job. Pretty easy.

We walk out to the car and when we get in I try to tell the app that I’ve picked up my fare. It’s not giving me that option though. She checks her phone and notices that somehow my name isn’t listed as her driver, it’s someone else, and they’re one minute away. She quickly cancels the request as the poor soul pulls up.

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We quickly back out and leave the parking lot, trying to figure out how our plan fell apart. She requested a ride, my phone buzzed, I accepted the fare, and then what the hell? Obviously someone else accepted her request, but how could I as well? As we were heading home we realize that my phone is still saying I have a customer and that they’re seven minutes away, now eight.

Is it really possible that the second she requests a ride a stranger accepts at the exact moment a second person requests a ride and I accept? Well, yeah, I guess it is. That’s what we’re dealing with here. My instinct is to just cancel and go home because I need to be up at 6am but my girlfriend says I should probably go ahead and do it so I don’t get yelled at by the Uber people. So where is this joker anyways?

I turn on the GPS and start following the directions. It looks like we’re going to a part of town that’s nothing but warehouses. It says I’m a minute away and there isn’t a soul around. I’m hoping it’s all a big mistake, a glitch in the Matrix. Right on cue, I make the final turn and a well-lit building appears with a disheveled business guy sitting in the grass, waving me down. Welcome to Perfect Tens Strip Club.

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Before I even get to a stop he stands up and starts walking over. I guess this is the guy. He opens the door and climbs in. I ask him where we’re going and he says I should already know. Right, I guess I need to do something with the app. I tell it that I made the pick up and that we’re now en route to his house, which is 40 minutes away. The robotic lady starts giving us directions and immediately the guy tells me to ignore her because we need to go to Whataburger first.

I have no idea where the nearest Whataburger is so he gives me turn by turn directions, all the while playing on his phone with a bluetooth ear piece still in his ear. I wonder if he had that thing on during his lap dances. Probably so.
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I figured he’d want to just go through the drive-thru but he insisted on ordering from the counter. We park and he staggers toward the doors. I notice that when he gets his order it’s not in a brown paper bag, it’s a tray full of food, enough to feed a family. He sits down and starts unwrapping his burger as if he were defusing a bomb. Are you kidding me right now?
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It looks like he’s eating in slow motion. I’ve never seen a drunken meal go down so slowly. Things got worse when two high school girls in short shorts came in and ordered food as well. It took him ten minutes to remember that he had a burger in his hands and that he needed to be biting and chewing. In all fairness he did ask us if we wanted anything before he went in. If I had known he was going to take 32 minutes to eat, I would’ve taken him up on his offer. My midnight bedtime was never going to be achieved.

He finally finishes his feast, wipes his greasy fingers on his slacks, and heads back to the car, thanking us for waiting, but not before checking back on the high school girls one last time. I guess if he looked back and they were eyeing him then he’d ditch us and go with them. Since they had no idea he was ever there in the first place, much less left them, he climbed back into the back seat, looking a bit defeated. We notice he smells much better than before. The girlfriend thinks he put on cologne to impress the under-aged girls, but I think he put it on to cover up stripper sweat and other things on his lap before he gets home to his wife. We may never know.

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I’m not sure what the etiquette is here. Am I supposed to entertain him or just leave him alone? When I’m in a cab I just like to sit there in the backseat and do my own thing. But this isn’t a smelly cab, I’m letting this guy into my car, it’s personal and therefore a little more familiar. The obvious first question would be how is day is going but considering he’s drunk and I picked him up on the front lawn of a ghetto-ass strip club in the middle of nowhere, I already know the answer to that one.

The only time I’ve ever been in a Uber car as a passenger, I was sitting between two friends who were in the middle of a fight and they were screaming and cursing at each other like  Bobby and Whitney. That went on for 40 minutes. I spent the time making apologetic looks to the driver in the rear view mirror. That’s what I know about what goes on during an Uber ride.
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I decide not to say anything to him. Or to my girlfriend. I didn’t want him to feel like he was intruding on our evening, which he certainly was. We follow the directions down south and of course there’s road construction everywhere and his exit doesn’t exist. This first ride could not be going any worse.

He directs me to another road and the GPS Navigator takes it from there. We go way south and then start heading west into the hills. After 20 minutes we’re in the middle of nowhere, heading to either the fancy houses overlooking the lake, or to a kill room he has hidden in the woods. I thought fancy house, but the look on my girlfriend’s face said she thought the latter. At least we’d be dying together. She began sending out a myriad of texts to friends and family to let them know what was going on in case this was our death cab. She would later say that she had seen it all in her mind and begged him to kill her first so she wouldn’t have to watch me die. That’s sweet.
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We head up massive hills, make sharp turns, all the while avoiding deer and armadillos that seem to come out of nowhere. It just keeps getting darker and darker. I’m trying to follow the directions on my phone which I’m illegally holding in my hand because I don’t have a holder. He tells me to forget about the route map and just keep going straight until it comes to an end. I think too deeply on the existential interpretation of that statement. Gulp.

While we were stopped at Whataburger I tried to find an XM radio station that matched his personality. I guess the Pearl Jam one, but now I’m thinking I should have picked something a little more Patrick Bateman. I can’t help but think this is what hookers must feel like when they have to pleasure clients they’d rather not even look at. I just want this to end. It’s so incredibly uncomfortable.
images-12     The road keeps getting more and more narrow, but we start to see a few mailboxes so we may just get out of this yet. He tells us to pull over onto a side road that immediately dead ends into an iron gate. Just like that, he says we’re at his house which I can’t even see from the front gate. He walks over to a keypad and presses in some sort of code. We don’t even wait to see if it works, we just back out and head out ASAP.
images-13       After we calmed ourselves after fits of laughter, we go over our thoughts during the entire ordeal. We had to reaffirm that he really was as creepy as we’d made him out to be. We went over the evidence at every turn and built up quite a case against him. At the end, we were lucky we got out of it unscathed.

We drive the 45 minutes back home and only when I pull into our neighborhood do I notice that I never told the app that we delivered the goods. I quickly hit END TRIP and that officially closes the ride, and stops the meter. Yeah, I may have accidentally doubled his fare, but I think I deserve it. We had the lengthy unscheduled Whataburger stop and is he really going to complain to Uber about what happened on his trip home from the strip club? He’s wise to just keep quiet about the whole thing and chalk it up to a crazy night. I’m sure he spent five times as much money on strippers anyways.

Well my latest way of supplementing my income didn’t get off to the easy start I thought it would, but at least I foresee adventure in this endeavor. Next day off I have at home after I fly my Rome trip tomorrow will be spent trying it again. I’ll set aside four hours and just answer ride requests. I’ll figure out what exactly I can expect in a day’s work and if it really is something worth doing on my time off. I may want to do it during the daytime though, not at 11pm. I’ll learn.

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September 11, 2006 Austin, TX

My friend John and I drove down to Mother Egan’s on West 6th Street to throw some darts. The girlfriend wasn’t feeling that great so she stayed at my mom’s house, where we were all staying over this festive Labor Day Holiday. Even John and his entire family was staying up in the Austin suburbs of Round Rock.

We got to the downtown Austin pub at 10pm and left right after 2am.  I know we only had four pints and two shots; tequila as we left the bar and a SoCo lime earlier in the night.  Over four hours that isn’t bad, especially considering we had a huge meal before we went out.  We played five games of cricket and 12 songs on the jukebox.

After four games we were tied and I think he won the last one but he says I did.  I got to hear all my songs on the jukebox but John missed the first two while he was outside smoking.

I remember feeling buzzed after the first beer, which is definitely unusual.  I was pretty wasted when they ushered us out of the bar, towards the parking lot, and into our cars after closing.  I’m not sure the route back I took but I know I drove very well.

As soon as the car was parked in the garage I must have just let myself go.  That’s the last thing I remember.  I had a weird dream about peeing in a suitcase but that’s all I remembered from the night.  I made a joke about it to the girlfriend when I woke up and she didn’t think it was really that funny.

She said, “you don’t remember last night do you?”  I was facing away from her and I’m sure my eyes were still closed when I was talking to her.  I was in that great sleepy moment when you’re first waking up but pretty much still asleep.  As soon as she said that my eyes shot wide open and a chill went through my body.  Fuck!  Did that really happen?

I turned around and looked at her.  She didn’t look happy.  I swallowed the lump in my throat and asked her what she was talking about.  The last thing I remembered the night before was entering the house; she picked up the story right where I left off.

She said I came into the room at around 3am and I was all giggly and talkative.  She said she thought it was cute but she knew I was wasted.  She never gets to see me that way because if I’m that drunk, she’s even worse.  This was one of those very rare occasions where I had been drinking and she was stone cold sober.

I guess I just stripped off my clothes and passed out next to her.  So far so good.

A couple of hours later she wakes up to a weird noise.  I’m out of bed and standing near the door.  There’s a weird sound.  She squints and tries to figure out what’s going on and then it hits her.  I’m standing above her open suitcase, pissing right into it.

“Baby No!  You’re peeing in my suitcase!”  I guess I got annoyed that she was yelling at me.  “I know I’m peeing!  Well… (pausing and thinking) I didn’t know about the suitcase, but I knew I was peeing!”

She jumps up and leads me down the hall, past my mom’s bedroom and into the bathroom where I guess I shake out the last couple drops of piss.  I flush and get back into bed.  I’m ready to go back so sleep but for some reason the lights are on and she is doing something busy and noisy.  I get annoyed and ask her why the hell the lights are on.  Of course they’re on because she’s on her hands and knees cleaning up my trail of urine from her suitcase, out the door, down the hall and into the bathroom.  I just pass out again and leave her to her work.

I apologized when I woke up and also begged her not to tell anyone.  Of course by dinnertime everyone in the family knew what had happened and was making jokes.  I blame that crazy homebrew we had.  It was insane.  There is no way four pints and two measly shots should have fucked me up like that in four hours.  I cannot believe I drove home, I NEVER do that. I also blame the fact that the girlfriend and I slept downstairs in a room I’ve never even stayed in before.  I think I was disoriented when I got up to hit the head.  There were a lot of factors; it was the perfect storm.

I felt better learning that John did some fucked up stuff at the same time I was peeing in my girlfriend’s suitcase full of clean clothes.  He made his way upstairs and into the bed I usually stay in.  His wife Sunny was in the big king sized bed with their two youngest kids.  The two older ones were also in the room but on little mats of the floor.

I’m amazed he didn’t accidentally step on someone coming in but I guess he didn’t.  What he did do however are things he wouldn’t remember doing either.  First of all I guess he was more of a man than me.  I just passed out but John was in the mood for love.  He climbed in bed and tried to persuade Sunny into a quickie before he went to bed.  Of course she told him to go to bed.

“Come on baby, I’ll give it to you anyway you want it.”  He tried his best but mind you, he’s saying this with all four of his children within eight feet of him.  The oldest was 8 so there’s a chance she knew what he was talking about.

Sunny got John to just go to bed but when he got up a little while later to piss, he made it to the dresser, opened up a drawer and was just about to piss when Sunny stopped him.

I’m not sure what kind of trauma you’d get if you were a 5-year-old boy and you wake up to find your dad wasted, standing above you, pissing into a dresser drawer, possibly dripping on you as well.

So what Mother Egan put in her special brew is something pretty fucking scary.  I’m not sure if it’s actually their beer or just some local microbrew but I’m staying the hell away.  I don’t remember the name but I know it started with Sun, maybe Sunburst or Suncoast.

I was glad to hear that John did some messed up stuff too, it’s not like him.  The fact that we both acted so strange really makes you wonder what the hell happened. I think they slipped us something. I really do.