I assume Uber drivers have it good because there are so many of them who willingly do it, but I can’t imagine the conversations they have to endure with me, I mean passengers, at 3 a.m.


For example.

I talk to every one of my Uber drivers, at the very least to ask how their day or night is going.

Sometimes I ask them about their most ridiculous passengers (always welcomed stories.)

So far, what I’ve gathered is that every day, Uber drivers bring people back to their cars from the night before.

(Raises hand.)

They also pull over on the side of the road more often than you’d think so a passenger can throw up.

(Earmuffs, mom)

They are constantly asked to suggest restaurants and bars, like a tour guide.

At least one passenger will ALWAYS leave a phone in the back seat and then drivers have to coordinate returning it.

BTW, they’d like a cash tip after returning a phone.

But last week, I heard a new Uber driver’s experience, one that I found to be so horrifying yet so hilarious that I had to have him go into every detail.

Peter, an Uber driver who had a 4.8 star rating, picked up a young guy in his 20s one day during the day and drove to the address he had requested.

The address was a house, not a bar or a business, and Peter said the guy was pretty quiet, not really saying anything about the house other than confirming the address.

But then, about a block away, he told the Uber driver to keep driving by the house and not to stop.

“He ducked down in the backseat and everything!” Peter said.

The driver did as he was told, and kept driving.

“Can you go back around the block again?” the guy asked.


“Did I miss it?” the driver asked.


No. Apparently, Peter was an accomplice to some light stalking.

Which is NOT something that happens to drivers every day.

Peter made the block and stopped at the address, just like his phone told him to.

“The second time I drove down a young girl was coming out of the house and the guy in the backseat screamed, “DRIVE!”” Peter laughed.

Peter panicked and hit the gas, and said the woman ran out to the street, and he saw her yelling at him (and his passenger) in the rear view mirror.

“What’s going on man?” Peter asked him. “I don’t want no rocks being thrown at my car, now!”

He said he was worried she would take down his license plate and report him for something.


He stopped the car at the next stop sign. His phone chirped, “Make a U-Turn.”

“DRIVE STRAIGHT!” the guy yelled. “SHIT SHIT SHIT!”

Peter said the guy was “cussing” up a storm.

“Where are we going now?” Peter asked, trying to program a new address into the app.

The guy told Peter to go back to where he picked him up. He admitted that it was his ex-girlfriend’s house, and he just wanted to drive by to see if her “new ASSHOLE” was there.


Is this what people are using Ubers for these days????!?!?!?

To have an anonymous cars creep by their ex’s house?

What would have happened if said “asshole” was on the porch????!!?

Honestly, a passenger puking sounds better.

I mean, how many times did this guy do that???

Peter could not have been his first drive-by.

I can see him arguing with his ex now: “No, Lisa, I was NOT driving by your house. I don’t even have a Buick.”


“Well, did you give him five stars?” I asked.

“Yea, well, you know, I give them all five stars,” Peter said.

Then he paused.

“Unless they puke.”



Do I need an opening paragraph? Does today’s post even need any sort of introduction?

This past weekend, my friend Mallory told me that on a THIRD date, the guy she was seeing, Brett, asked her for her urine so he could pass a drug test.

(spits out vodka drink) AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA



Naturally, we had a lot of questions.

Such as…“Shouldn’t you wait until at least date FIVE before discussing drug use?”


Just kidding mom.

No. Nothing about this was OK.

It was so not OK that when Mallory told the group of us four girls about it, we each had a very valid, very different concern about Brett’s request.

“If he knew you didn’t do drugs, why would he think you’d be OK with the fact that he is a drug user?” asked girl number one.

“Why would he ask you on a THIRD date?” asked girl number two. “Shouldn’t you wait until at least date FIVE before discussing drug use?”

“And how were you supposed to give him your urine? Like in a solo cup?” asked girl number three. “Wouldn’t that take away any sort of romance?”

Perhaps the best point came from girl number four: 

“So, basically he has no other friends who have clean urine.”



Mallory tried to answer our questions the best she could, only saying that Brett, this WINNER she met at a minor league baseball game, told her that he had bought a “whizzer,” a pouch/fanny pack that you put either fake pee or someone else’s clean pee into, and you use that liquid instead of your own during a drug test.

“That’s really sick,” my mom chimed in. (Visiting this weekend, overhearing the conversation.)


But Mallory’s question for Brett wasn’t any of the things we had covered.  

Instead, she asked, “What do you mean a drug test? I thought you had a job at a fine dining restaurant. They drug test servers at restaurants now?!?”

That’s when Brett broke the news: No, he did not have a job. 

He DID have a job at a fine dining restaurant (so he says), but got fired a month earlier, and lied about it when they met so he wouldn’t look like a loser.


And now he’s applying for jobs and needs clean pee.




Mallory shook her head.

“SO…about the whizzer…” he said.


Piss off.