A Love Letter To My Uber Driver

By Blackout Betch

Dear Dedicated Transportation Industry Employee,

There are a few people that put up with my drunken bullshit. My roommates are included on this short list, but that’s only because we live together and it’s not really acceptable to leave a human blacked out on the bathroom floor alone. Especially since she drunk ate all my pizza bagels when we got back from the bar. She only did this because I was drunk crying again and she needed a snack to get her through that disaster, but pizza bagels mean a lot to a drunk betch so she owes me.

Uber drivers don’t share this kind of unspoken contract with us so the relationship we share is really a special one. Sure, we pay you (or we have our parents’ credit cards linked up to our account), but for the amount of shit we pull in the back of your cars you all really are guardian angels in disguise. Disguise being clothes probably from Target and sketchy, unmarked cars, but IDGAF - it is what it is when it comes to 3 AM on a Saturday.

You tolerate my 12 calls (all within 10 minutes of each other) and when I text things like, “Where the fuck are you??? Lisa is about to make out with my ex and I really need to GTFO of this party!!!!”

You pick me up three different times in one night because the girls at the first pregame I went to were sipping wine and talking about their cats when all I wanted to do was rip shots and listen to “Reflections” on repeat.

You hand me a plastic bag or a box of tissues on nights when I really should have listened to my bestie and just gone home after too much tequila during happy hour instead of ordering another round.

You allow me to squeeze “a couple extra girls” in the backseat because you understand the notion of 'no man left behind' – especially when we have a wild postgame to hit and all of us MUST be there.

All of these sacrifices you make and disasters you DGAF about make you one of the most selfless people in my life – probably number two after my grandma who still sends me a card every month with a fifty dollar bill in it.

Thank you for always dropping me off right outside my door, reminding me to not leave behind my phone and bag (about 5 times because I keep trying to get out of the car without them), and not judging me for that time I laid across the entire backseat and begged you to drive around in circles for 15 minutes because I was too drunk to walk.


The Betches




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