Okay, this wasn't THIS uber story but deserved its time to shine *He was by far the nicest Uber driver I've ever had that was my age... I'm proud to say, I've met three grandmas that I that have a dr. Gene Scott. They just haven't received their paperwork yet and one particular middle aged man in Myrtle Beach who is the Drunken phone hero. He wasn't drunk, nor was my phone, it was more that my inebriated ruler of a bag of bones left my phone unaccompanied in his car and he drove an hour and a half in the other direction. He came back and delivered it with no charge. Slurring, I checked in with all the cash that I had. Best $28 I've ever spent. He even gave me his card for next time I was drunk and stupid LOL his words, not mine. It was followed by a warm chuckle deep into his belly, kind of like Santa... But he wasn't fat lol So, now back to the man of the night, he was a genuine, honest to goodness man (as far as the realm of dating is concerned). He picked me up and was in a particularly good mood, seeming really friendly. Okay, so what's the big deal, Stephanie? Well feisty pants reader, the setting of this enchanting meeting happened to be a crisp 4:45 in the morning in Manhattan. He said I was his last ride and was delighted that I wasn't drunk. I'm sure he's witnessed some serious madness at 4:30 in the morning... But he didn't want to talk about that. He wanted to talk about me. I thought that was weird from the front seat of a dark car, but anyone that knows me, knows I could have a very in-depth conversation with a brick wall between platform nine and three-quarters, so I gladly indulged. After at least a 30-minute conversation, we approached the airport. He concluded aloud, "you are a radiant individual." I don't think I've ever been called that... At least those words put together. I was slightly taken aback by the compliment; I had assumed he had most this kind of rapport with most of his rides. He assured me, that I could not have been so mistaken. He's currently pursuing his doctorate in mechanical engineering and Ubers the graveyard shift on weekends to pay for his studio downtown. He said most people can't even wrap their head around basic syntax, much less be stimulating and engaging solely using their mind. He was enthralled by my perspective on dating and traveling, also I had just returned from Ireland so it was full of stories and life. He asked for my Facebook. I kind of felt like I was in 8th grade... Except in another universe, because in 8th grade, I wasn't allowed to have a Facebook or Myspace or an Xanga... Strict parents want to make sure they can hold on to you while they still can. Oh those Catholic ways.... So, I gave him my full name, and he asked me to accept my friend request then because he didn't want to miss out on having another conversation with me. I accepted and made my merry way to my flight. Even for a 6 am flight, gotta take a plane selfie....anything but plain ;)Days went by and we continued to text. He was full of energy, like a bold cup of coffee, just like he was at 4:30 in the morning that night. His skin was a deep mocha, with a little cream in his coffee so I find it only suiting to brew up some mocha brownies. No, you can't actually brew brownies.. Yet. It's a new revolution I'm working on. Please stay tuned. "No sleep till Brooklyn!"
What was the outcome between him and I? Just friends, a less than mutual consensus. But he's still kind when we're occasionally chat.
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AuthorChef Steph cooking up trouble. If she can't find anything real, she bakes real good sweets. Chocolate really may mend a broken heart... Archives
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