Don’t Go Chasing Ubers: A Hungover Friday Memoir
Fridays, am I right? Have you ever had one of those Lindsey Lohan, Freaky Friday-esque experiences worthy of a Disney Channel Original Movie. That was today for me. Today marks one of the craziest experiences I’ve ever had, brought to you by Uber.
Day starts. It’s 9am and I’m slightly hungover. Recognizing I need to overcome the urge to sleep off those Yuenglings, I summon responsible Jeremy, grab a Peppermint Mocha from Starbucks (because I’m bougie like that) and get an Uber. It was a standard experience. Some small talk about the weather. R. Kelly blaring through the radio. The overwhelming scent of a fresh cherry bomb air freshener. You know a typical morning Uber ride. Our 15 minute relationship ends and I go about my day. Good while it lasted.
Then it happens. I reach the office and realize I left my phone in the car. I panic at first but then remember that 2016 has afforded us the comfort of technology. I use my Uber receipt to track down my charming driver and give her a call. “I think I left my phone in the car, would you be able to drop it off?” I said, embarrassed to admit the silly mistake.
She responds, “Ohh you did but…you’re gonna have to wait.” Confused by her response I reply, “Umm, okay well let me know when you can drop it off.” Our conversation ends and I realize that “you’re gonna have to wait” provides zero insight into the expected arrival time of my phone. I stay cool though, she seemed nice.
Hours go by. I start to panic and call my driver a few times. Ofcourse, she doesn’t respond. Is she screening my calls? Did she sell my sweet Samsung on the black market? Is she stealing all of my cellular secrets or tanking the game of Words with Friends I’m currently playing with my mom. Thanks to the aforementioned comforts of technology, I track my phone online. Moving throughout Philly, the phone travels around the city as she makes her stops. Still no call from her. I keep trying to call but no response. I decide to give it more time.
2 more hours go by. Now I’m panicking. I give her a call one last time, hoping for some sort of insight into when I can get my phone and do some much needed catch up on DMs. Thankfully, she answers. “Hey, I uh really need my phone back. Are you headed up this way?” I asked. “I’m not going to inconvenience myself to drop off the phone,” she responds, “it’s not my fault you left your phone in the car.” I try to keep calm as long as possible asking her in faux-sincerity “people don’t take Uber’s in Fishtown?” She tells me I have a smart mouth and that she won’t deliver the phone. Instead she’ll drop it off at the Uber office NEAR THE AIRPORT. Hang up.
I call back. “Ma’am I really need my phone, where can we meet?” She responds “You know, people usually give people money for stuff like this? And here you are being smart.” I track my phone online. SHE’S TWO BLOCKS AWAY. Again she tells me I have a smart mouth and refuses to drop off my phone. We have about 3 more phone convos with the same old song and dance. I apologize, she says I should give her money, says I have a smart mouth, then hangs up.
Frustrated, I track my phone again. She’s still two blocks away. My coworkers and I joke around about potentially finding the car and chasing it down. Then we realize she’s close. Jokes turn into reality and next thing I know the four of us take off out the door running towards her location.
We wait for several minutes to no avail. We knew we had no shot. I mean we couldn’t possibly spot her during rush hour in Philly. But we were wrong.
Suddenly, we see her go by. It felt like a Michael Bay movie as she cruised by in what felt like Bad Boys 2-esque slow motion. We stare as I scream “THAT’S HER!” The four of us take off and chase the Chevy Cruze, passenger in tow. She tries to speed off but gets caught in traffic (the one time I was thankful for Philadelphia during rush hour). She stops, rolls down the window and hands over the phone. Sweet taste of victory.
In closing, Uber is the worst and anytime you hear R. Kelly sing Christmas songs at 9am, it’s gonna be a weird day.