They get in, laughing, a little buzzed, as the bars are closing. They’re both mid-twenties and he comes off like a player. He’s damn good looking, charming, funny, confident, his clothes look expensive. She is mostly on her phone and I get less of a sense of her.
“We’re a new couple,” he tells me, and she laughs. He adds, “A very new couple.”
I expect he means that I am taking them home together for the first time.
“What advice do you have for a new couple?” he asks me.
“I’m thirty-six and still single, man. You don’t want relationship advice from me.”
“Oh shit! Yeah, you’re right! I want this to work!” he says, laughing.
They joke back and forth for a minute about how maybe they are going to get married. They seem to think it’s hilarious. An inside joke I’m not privy to, perhaps. At the first lull in conversation, she is back to her phone.
He leans forward, close to me, and in a lower voice, he says, “I’ve had a crush on this girl since second grade. And she’s been pushing me away since the third grade.”
I suddenly find myself doubting the fuckboy image I assumed of him. He sounds genuinely excited, like he’s so happy it finally happened that he needed somebody to brag to. It’s kind of heartwarming.
They go back to flirting and kissing and I go back to driving. A few minutes later, when I drop them off, he says, “I’ve been waiting all my life for this.”
She laughs and goes, “What?”
He laughs too, and says, “You didn’t hear me earlier. I told him I’ve had a crush on you since second grade.”
She bursts out laughing.
“We met like four days ago,” she says, and they get out and head into his house.
I’m left sitting there dazed, thinking, “Goddamn. That is one charming fuckboy.”
Memoirs of a Rideshare Driver is a series that tells true stories of my 10,000+ trips as a rideshare driver. I will post them every Monday.