You drive for Uber. Until something better comes along.
A pretty couple gets in. Wobbly and loud.
“Pull over please. Now.” But it’s too late. The lady pukes all over the back seat.
The man looks distraught. Then he laughs. “I told you to pull over,” he says.
You keep driving. He says the address again. Cold air mixed with vomit.
“Stop here.” This time the door flies open and she spews outside. He’s seething.
An extra twenty for your troubles. You look in the rear view mirror, but turn away.
You just drive for Uber. Until something better comes along.