Memoirs of a Rideshare Driver: Lost and Found and Lost Again

Episode 59 in a series of true rideshare stories

Her friends help her into the car, always a bad start. Anytime two concerned friends assist somebody with sitting down and tell her three times to text when she makes it home safe because they’re not convinced their words are registering, part of me wants to go, “Oh shit, I just remembered I have something else to do. Good luck.”

But I pick her up. I try to ask her how her night went, and she does that thing drunk people do where they pause for so long you think they’ve passed out, then suddenly jabber in slurred, indignant tones.

“It was fine until my friends started worrying about the car situation for no reason,” she complains.

I take that to mean she wanted to drive home and they wouldn’t let her. Jesus. Good call.

Looking over my shoulder, I notice her phone is lying on the seat next to her. I expect she will forget it and I make a mental note to remind her about it when we get there. There is a $20 fee for returning lost items, but it still always feels like a hassle.

Two minutes from home she has the window down and is hanging her head out. I tell her I can pull over if she’s going to be sick and she claims she’s fine. It feels unlikely. I don’t know what the hell she’s doing, but I’m only two minutes away, so I keep driving. The sooner this trip is over, the better.

I have to tell her twice that we’ve arrived at her house before she processes what I’m saying. She opens the door. I look back to see if she remembers her phone, and to my surprise, she picks it up.

“Somebody left their phone,” she says, holding it out to me.

“I thought that was your phone.”

“No.”

Hm. I had been pretty sure I saw her set it on the seat, but it’s possible a previous passenger left it there and I just happened to notice at the beginning of the ride…

“You’re sure this isn’t your phone?” I ask as I take it.

“It’s not mine!” she sneers.

“Fair enough.”

She heads to her front door. I wait to make sure she gets inside. She doesn’t. She fumbles with the lock on the front door for about a minute. I roll my eyes, hoping I won’t have to take her somewhere else.

She goes into the car port and starts fidgeting with a side door, pounding on it and yelling for someone to open it. When nobody does, she walks through a gate into the backyard.

I wait another minute or two, but nothing happens. Lights don’t come on in the house, but she doesn’t come back out either. I don’t feel good about breaking into a stranger’s backyard to check on her, and already my phone is buzzing with another ride, so eventually I just leave.

A few minutes later, the cell phone, now in my cupholder, starts lighting up with messages like “Did you make it home?” and “You still awake?”

The phone is locked, so I can’t answer the texts or call the texter. All I can do is wait for them to call, at which point I’ll be able to answer and try to figure out whose phone it is. Though I have a hunch.

The concerned friends never call. Millennials rarely do.

The next morning, someone has reported a missing phone through the app. I call the number on file and a woman tells me her friend left her phone in the car and gives me the address. I say I can be there around 3:00 PM and ask whether somebody will be home at that time. The friend says she’ll check, and a few minutes later tells me, “Yeah, my friend says she’ll be there all day.”

When I get to the address, I’d be lying if I said I was shocked that it’s the same goddamn house I sat out in front of last night wondering if this woman would find her way in. The same address where she handed me this phone and insisted it wasn’t hers even when I asked her if she was sure it wasn’t hers. I knew it was hers! She insisted I take it.

I knock at the door.

Again.

Again.

I check my watch. It’s 3:00 PM, exactly like I promised, and there is no one home.

I toss the phone in the mailbox and text the friend to tell her where it is. I whisper a silent prayer that it be struck by a bolt of lightning.

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Memoirs of a Rideshare Driver is a series that tells true stories from my 10,000+ trips as a rideshare driver. I will post new stories every month in 2026 (and two this month since I missed June).