The tales of the Geneva Shore Report Uber driver.
I picked up my passengers at Sugar Shack at just after midnight on Saturday morning. Two men and two women. They were drunk to the point that I had to get out and make sure their own cars were locked up in the lot outside the strip club. They said they could leave them at the club because they knew the old Playboy bunny who owned the place and she, although tough and mean as a snake, wouldn’t mind. We all got in the car and I began to drive away, thinking that they weren’t really too drunk because at least they understood that they shouldn’t drive and had called me. I didn’t get out of the lot before one of the women screamed that she’d left her cell phone on the hood of her car. I backed up and everyone got out to look for the phone, which was not on the hood of her red mustang. When everyone had given up and had all gotten back into my car I noted a crushed mess of electronics near my tire. I picked up the mess and then made my mistake.
I asked the woman if the mess was her phone. She screamed again, this time following the loud scream with: “you ran over my phone.” Just the way she said it I knew I was in trouble. She began berating me and the others joined in, for running over her phone. It was a new iPhone 7. She said I owed her a thousand dollars and that she would sue Uber if I did not pay. Now I wait. I got in my car and left them there in the Sugar Shack lot, hoping that they’d drive their own cars to wherever they were going. I have the electronic mess of her phone on my desk, waiting for Uber to call me.