Wow this looks like that guy! Thank you, Kevin Bidwell and Pexels... (fig. 2)
They can drink you under the table. Right?
Often when people find out I’m a rideshare driver, or when they’re riding with me, they want to hear my craziest rideshare stories. Nine out of ten times they want to know if anybody ever threw up in my car.
So here you go. Installment two of The Rideshare Car Barf Series, an adventure in three parts (yes, there are more where these came from).
If the number of rides needed exceeds the available drivers, it can be lucrative, especially if some event arrived at a stadium or other large venue. Or it can absolutely suck.
This particular Monday evening, probably around 9pm, I got a fare at a downtown country and western bar. I knew immediately on arrival this would be a doozy.
Out in front of the bar, a guy in a suit wobbled back and forth while his friends attempted to keep him from falling over. He’s my fare. Grrrreaaaaat.
He doesn’t want to get into the car. He doesn’t want to leave, he doesn’t want the fun to be over, he’s “fine”…
“I'm fine! I don't need to go home!”
Two of his buddies get in the backseat with the aim of getting him to join them. The plan works.
Unfortunately, he’s the one in the middle. I wonder, what if he starts throwing up? Shouldn’t he be by the window? But they all assure me it’s fine. Off we go!
It’s a fairly long ride, about 25 minutes west toward the edge of town. They’re complaining about how long the ride is. The bar owner had put in the destination, so all accept that’s the deal, and they soon forget where we’re going.
They're an interesting bunch. Monday nights, I learn, the bar hosts an event for local bartenders. People who, I imagine, can hold their liquor. I am wrong about this.
I have a loud, loosey-goosey drunk bartender in a suit in the middle seat, a somewhat less drunk guy in a button-down shirt and khakis on the right, and a very large, very wasted biker-looking dude squeezed in on the left. The one on the right works for a liquor distributor who sponsored the event, which explains his reduced level of inebriation.
The biker-ish gentleman on the other hand drank well over his limit despite being the bartender for the venue itself, and we haven’t gone 10 blocks before he starts projectile vomiting out the window!
So much for elite alcoholic bartenders who can drink Siberian wrestlers under the table.
Wow this looks like that guy! Thank you, Kevin Bidwell and Pexels... (fig. 2)
Fortunately he’s a courteous explosive hurler, and manages to keep everything on the outside of the car. I hand him a bottle of water and he considerately rinses off the door as we drive.
After several millennia we arrive, and they all turn to each other asking what the hell they’re doing on the West Side. None of them actually live there. The bar owner lives there, and forgot to enter a different address for the passengers. Who live about 3 blocks from the bar.
We drive back to their house without further incident, and I head for a car wash, my record of consecutive months without anyone vomiting INSIDE my car still intact.
Still up for more? Head on over to Part 3, The Good Samaritan and The Spewing Son.
No doubt you hope to one day
Perhaps you may prefer to...
Figure 1. Edmonds, A. (2017). Chris, a French magician is the mastermind behind L’EscaMoteur in Kyoto. He designed the speakeasy himself, and his drink creations are out of this world. [Online Stock Photo Image]. In Unsplash.
https://unsplash.com/photos/DHrP3iFTdHMGoogle. (2022).
Figure 2. Bidwell, K. (2019). Man riding on black motorcycle [Online Stock Photo Image]. In Pexels.
https://www.pexels.com/photo/man-riding-on-black-motorcycle-2042281/
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