So there I was, in Center City, with two of my best friends, Cass and Taylor. We're a little tired and super full from our goodbye dinner. Taylor's moving back to California at the end of the week and I don't know what I'm going to do without her, so I was already in a little bit of a bad mood. Anyway, there I was, in Center City. I had no intention of walking back in my wedges, so we called a Lyft to go home.
Now, I really like Lyft. I like that it's 50% off on the weekdays, I like that it's more casual than an Uber, and I like how friendly the drivers are...usually. Sometimes, I just want to go home without any unnecessary small talk or chatter. Most drivers understand this and stop trying to make conversation after a few of their questions receive one word answers. I don't think there's anything wrong with just getting to your destination in peace as long as you're nice about it. And, like I said, most drivers are cool with that.
Most drivers. This driver was not cool with it. The three of us get in the car and right off the bat, the driver says, "So, do you like Lyft?" Sure, valid question, get good ratings.
I nod, smile, and say "Mmhmm," before looking out the window. I think that's a pretty solid indication that we don't really feel like talking. But, he continues.
"You like it better than Uber?" I look at my friends, who shrug.
"Yeah," I say, again, smiling slightly and looking out the window. He turns around and looks at the other two in the car. First of all, eyes on the road, buddy. Then he just stares at them in silence. "What's wrong?" I said, trying to be polite.
"Oh, I just didn't know if they had any opinions." The three of us exchanged a look, incredulous. Everyone has opinions, maybe they just don't feel like sharing them. I just shook my head and let him prattle on about they app and why you should get it, and the promotion that's going on. A few minutes later, a car pulls up next to us with some very fine young men in it.
"That's my type, 100%, right there." I said, pointing.
"Uh uh," Taylor disagreed.
"Too pretty," Cassandra shook her head.
"Oh, no," I started, "I totally like the pretty ones. I never date the pretty ones, but I like them."
"Well," our driver began, thinking that his two cents really needed to be added, "You know what you need to do to get the type of guys you want?"
Yes, I do know what I need to do to get the type of guy I want, I have no issues in that department. But please, continue.
"You have to find out what they like, and then be that."
I have to what? No, uh uh, this is not some Disney movie where I give up my awesome mermaid tail for crappy human legs just because some dude has great hair.
Taylor spoke first, although we were all incredulous, "No, I don't think I'm going to change for a man...that's a little too much."
"Well, you know, the guys are doing the chasing, and so you have to do what they like, the good looking ones are more superficial, so you know, you just find out what they like and then you be it." He said, trying desperately to justify his words.
"I don't think so," I interrupted, very ready to go on a rant about the patriarchy and why you should never change yourself for someone, but Cassandra got there first, in a much more polite way.
"I understand your...classic...point of view, but we don't agree with it."
The car is quiet and we continue on our ride. He turns on some music and promptly turns onto Market instead of continuing up 33rd like he should have, meaning that we have to get an extra couple of blocks to get us to our destination in the most roundabout way.
"So, who are you guys voting for?" he asks. I understand trying to start up a conversation so as not to end the ride on a bad note, but if you're going for a noncontroversial topic that will calm the waters, why on this green earth would you choose politics?
"I don't know yet," I started, "I guess we'll have to see who wins the primaries.
"Yeah," he said, "I'm a Democrat. But if I had to pick anyone from the Republican side, it would definitely be Donald Trump, because he used to be a Democrat. Where do I turn?"
At this point, he had gotten us to 34th Street, but he was on the wrong side of our destination. Meaning that he would have to go down 34th Street and back up 33rd Street to Powelton Ave, then go back down 34th Street to actually get us to our destination. Making this, indisputably, a huge waste of our time and money.
"Just pull into the 7/11 parking lot. We're getting out here. Goodbye." We barely got out of the car before we started venting. "Donald Trump?? First you tell me to change for a man, then you tell me that you want misogynistic Trump in office because he used to be a Democrat?" I was fuming.
"What the hell is wrong with people?" Taylor yelled.
We ranted the whole way home, not believing that the car ride had just ensued. Look, vote for whoever you want, but please, please, don't talk to me about it. We are in a car together. It is a 5 minute ride. Hold your political affiliation in. I know you can do it. To be honest, it probably wouldn't have been so annoying if we weren't already not in a talking mood and our frustrations hadn't been building all ride.
But in that moment, I swear, there was nothing I wouldn't have done to get out of that car.
