My sister’s wedding is across the country. And I don’t fly. So I do the next best thing: I schedule an Uber. Do the calculation. That’s 2,854 miles, and 44 hours in a car with a complete stranger. You may be wondering what could possibly go wrong, and you’d be right to because who in their right mind would ever Uber across the country with someone they don’t know? Me. That’s who. And everything that can go wrong? Pretty much does.
My friends and I have a bet. $10 000 for whoever can get the worst rating as an Uber driver. Sounds easy, right? Wrong. Because my passenger proves to be more trouble than she’s worth. Unfortunately, I have no choice but to see it through. You see, I went from being a trust fund brat, to a broke brat, and my friends have no idea. Which is why tolerating my passenger is my only option. The question is: will we kill each other on the road, or will we fall into bed together along the way? Only time will tell, and until then we’ll just drive each other batsh*t crazy.