The tales of the Geneva Shore Report Uber driver.
The night was not opening well, with short trips and no tips. I’m convinced it’s not me. It’s the weather and the time of the year, or maybe even the alignment of the stars. It was Saturday night. That’s my night, or it has been for some time, because most Uber drivers will not lurk out and around Geneva Lake waiting for at ride to call in at one or two in the morning. Maybe my stories on here, of finding a wad of cash in the back seat, brought in more competition, I don’t know. Uber tells me nothing. Anyway, at two a.m. I finally get the call of the night.
Four guys who needed to go from the Sugar Shack to Kenosha. They have two cars but are too drunk to drive, but not too drunk to know they can’t. My Saturday night bread and butter. The arrival at Sugar Shack was uneventful, the place almost unnaturally quiet. The guys came out and they were not happy. They were mad at one another for being “taken to the cleaners” by the girls inside. Somehow a stripper induced one of them to give her all their money. I tried to settle them down to get them into the car and out of there. I found out that they had all given their cash to Mark to hold so they wouldn’t blow it. Mark had gone into a back room for a special private ‘lap dance,’ and given all the cash to the girl for some “unknown” reason. The other three guys were mad as hell. That situation was not going well because most of my tips are in cash and if they’d blown all their cash they weren’t likely to put extra money on the Uber credit card they’d be paying for the trip with. They wanted to go back inside and get their money back.
I told them that they’d have better luck getting their money back after losing it in a casino in Vegas. Sugar Shack is all prepared for drunken men trying to get their money back. They don’t give money back, but they have a reputation for giving a lot of other things in exchange for that money…and none of it is anything you might want to receive. The guys finally settled down and got in the car. It took an hour to get them to their destination. The three guys sobered up enough to realize that I’d saved them from potential real trouble at Sugar Shack. They added a hundred bucks to the bill. It was a great night. Sugar Shack may socially crawl on it’s moral belly like a snake in the community, but it’s my snake.