KillerCake

Confessions of a 5-Star late night private driver. I'm fancy. Ok, not really. I drive for Uber & Lyft. Don't ask me shit but feel free to submit your own driver/rider stories. All names have been changed to protect the innocent. Add me on WAZE app @killercake

[killercakedriver-blog]

Uber Driver VS Uber Rider

Want to make your Uber ride a pleasurable experience for yourself? Want to be rated 5 stars? Remember to be polite and respectful, even if you don’t want to be.

That is all.

It’s a two way street we both agreed upon in order to use this service.

:)

hashtag don’t be an asshole.

[killercakedriver-blog]

Personal Uber Driver

It doesn’t work that way. Stop flattering yourself lol

I understand the reasoning behind it, too. Most all who ask me are women. I am a woman. It makes sense. I get it.

BUT.

If you really want an Uber driver to be your personal Uber driver, you best come with an offer of some cold cash, that pays more than what I’d make in the hour it takes for me to turn off my app, come over to you, take you wherever you want to go and then hover around until you are ready to leave? haha Please. Cold cash. Otherwise, stop asking.

[killercakedriver-blog]

Honesty is the best policy?

It was my first night ever working for Uber. A slow and quiet Sunday evening. Although I didn't rake in the dough, I did however, give a ride to two distinguished drunk gentlemen that were affiliated with the NBA (so they said, but yeah, they looked like it actually) ... they were taking a trip just a few short blocks in the downtown area. The guy who called Uber talked the entire way.

"That's why we're here in town. We come three times a year........ and all of the girls like Jeff..... They always like Jeff! They never like me....." drunk man #1 says in the back seat. 

"Is Jeff tall?" I ask as I look down at Jeff's legs. Jeff just sits there with his head resting on the seat with a grin on his face.

"Yeah, Jeff is tall... ugh." he says.

"Oh yeah. The ladies like the tall ones." I say.... 

"I just don't get it. Why don't women like me?"

"Well, I bet if you didn't say a word all night, they'd flock to you. Women like mysteriousness...." I reply.

Jeff dies laughing.

"Adrian, I'm going to give you 17 stars when I sober up in the morning...." dude #1 says with his hand on my shoulder.

"HAHA! Alright! Hope you guys enjoy the rest of your stay!”

*insert smiley face and normal peel out from the curb*

[killercakedriver-blog]

I met a super cute lady the other night who super urged me to vote for her super friend who was running for Mayor. I almost crashed my car into a brick wall. Told her I voted for MY friend who was running for Mayor. She gave me a super shit eating grin and asked me for my number. Oooooo k

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The other night...

I gave a ride to an off-duty cop and his friends. However his friend in the front seat wanted to talk to me like garbage the entire trip... “You’re going the wrong way... AGAIN.”... due to the gps not situating itself for 3 blocks and someone in the backseat telling me turn on a one way street.

I know where the fuck I am! But I was all smiles and calm.

So by the time we got to their place, the off-duty cop felt so bad that he gave me a $15 tip lol okay I guess not LOL but still LOL thanks copper

[killercakedriver-blog]

Finders Keepers

Kind of. 

I mean, I found a size XS pleather jacket in the back seat after a crazy evening toting around some really friendly Canadians. But they had already ventured back home by the time I noticed it, the following day. I believe it belonged to the nice lady who called me a ‘Goddess’ upon exiting the vehicle. lol

Dropped your phone? No problem. I’ll bring it back. 

Left your bag? Your coat? Your bike lock? No problem. I’ll bring it to you.

Dropped your fat ass joint the size of my finger under the seat?

Sorry, dude. I keep.

[killercakedriver-blog]

Oh Taxi!

Well, it finally happened. I got cussed the fuck out by a Taxi driver. Perhaps because I was parked with my hazards on in between the bike lane and the turning lane with a very very very slow moving indecisive group of people getting into the car. Or perhaps it was the U in my window. Who knows. I didn’t understand a word he said, though. lol

[killercakedriver-blog]

Let’s Git Marry

Married?

Married.

I like those weekend nights where the people are ready to party. Large groups of people all bright eyed and hopeful for a good night. Early one evening, I picked up 3 different bachelor parties. All fine ass dudes, all primped and primed, all ready to turn up. Mints and chewing gum has never been so handy.

By the way, I never used the term ‘turn up’ until I started driving late nights for money. It’s appropriate. These night riders are TURNT!

I  sometimes wonder if I work late enough, will I meet these people again, in their most natural state. 

Drunk off the truth serum. Happy. Tuckered out. Hopeful and hopeless.

Yeah. Maybe not them specifically.

At the end of that same evening, my last ride for the night, I picked up a bachelorette party, a group of very homely and very beautiful blonde girls from a dark street where all of the lights of the businesses had been turned off. I waited for a few minutes before a lady approached my car.

“Is this our Uber?” one girl asks.

“Hmm, who are you?” I reply.

“I’m Molly!” she replies with a smile.

“Hello Molly! I’m KillerCake!” I reply back with a smile and open the door for her. 

“Yay!” she exclaims.

A pack of girls fill the car and one hears the bass in the music I was playing at a very low volume. 

“OH MY GOD! CAN YOU TURN THIS UP!!!!!??!?!?!?” one girl exclaims.

“YEAHHHH!!!” scream the rest.

I didn’t know they were into Tribe Called Quest but OK. You can never tell with Portland. Let’s bump this shit.

We ride off into the darkness with the music blaring. The girls are dancing in their seats and laughing.

“KillerCake! My best friend is getting married tomorrow!!!!! Are you married?!” the girl in the front seat asks.

“Oh noooo noooooooooo. I’ve been proposed to twice, but I said no both times. They were crazy. And they both proved my point that they were crazy when they asked me to marry them.” I said.

“Awwwwwww... awwwww .... awwwwww” all the aw’s from the back seat. lol

“Does that mean you don’t believe in love?” another girl asks.

“Oh, I believe in love. I think love is for the lucky, though. It’s not a guarantee in life. If you’re lucky enough to find someone you love, who loves you back and you want to spend your life with them, I say go for it.” I reply.

They all scream YAY!!!! AWWWW!!! OMG!!!! YAYYY!! at the top of their lungs.... and a nice tip on the way out. 

It was a good day. Marriage is cool, if you want to be married. 

[killercakedriver-blog]

Last Call

I got dragged across the river, and a good 40 miles from home. It was late as fuck. I had picked up a couple from downtown to take them over the river into the other state. I asked them what Pandora station they wanted to listen to and the dude said, “Adelle - Hello”. 

Well, I don’t have Adelle - Hello just ready to go so I opened YouTube and started to play the video. Dude starts singing at this high pitch cat scream and his girlfriend is laughing her ass off. I said, “Don’t make me bust out my karaoke app, man.” 

“OH MY GOD! DO IT! DO IT!” his girlfriend shouts repeatedly.

And here we go. We all sang Hello together at the top of our lungs as we jammed down the rainy interstate and it all came to a sweet end right as I pull up to their spot. 

“Best Uber ride ever!” they both exclaim as they exit my vehicle.

I’m thinking I’m about to head home now that it was after 3am but no, 30 seconds later, before I could turn my shit off, my phone chimes and it’s a pick up a few miles away. I had been having issues with Uber user navigation lately. Trying to pick up people in the parking lots behind their homes, arriving to locations where the rider is 10 miles away, arriving to locations where the rider is 5 blocks away... wasting time, miles and money for nothing... PLEASE let this girl be at this fucking location!

She was. Thank God.

I had waited for about 5 minutes before she came stumbling out of the front door, clanking bottles and packing a container of pecans. I open the door for her and notice her cool ass teal colored hair and black roots. She was a pretty young lady with a raspy, chill, I’m drunk kind of voice. As she gets in, her bottles clank everywhere and she’s dropping shit. “Do you want some help?” I ask in a very casual tone.

“Oh naw, girl. Let’s go.”

And we’re off. 

She talked to me for a little bit, maybe a few blocks, before getting on her phone to make a call. But I didn’t realize right away that she was no longer talking to me... ugh. Haha. 

Her ride was a good 20 minutes, out into the sticks, farther away from my home, farther away from the city. My black ass is thankful to have UBER stickers in my windows because it makes the police leave me the fuck alone. 

She talked on the phone the entire time, only commenting where to turn for short cuts, and I obliged. We drove for what seemed forever and arrived to a pristine house in the country. 

“You can pull in on that gravel.” she says to me as she hangs up her phone.

I open the door for her once we are parked and she reaches into her wallet to pull out some money. I’m always like... ohhhh nooo nooo, this is not necessary.... but take it anyway when people offer me tips. But this girl didn’t pull out a dollar, or a 5.. she pulled out a 20. I looked at her like she was crazy and sincerely was like “OH NO. No. That is not necessary!” lol

“Oh yes it is, girl. You drove me out to the boonies. Take it. Please.” she says with a drunken smile.

“Well, it’s my job to do that, sister.... but if you insist. .... Thank you.” I said with a smile.

“Thank you! Have a good night.” she says as she stumbles out of the car and off into the darkness of her driveway....

I drove like a bat out of hell to get home. Only took me 20 minutes. And I put that $20 in my tank. Hey!

[killercakedriver-blog]

Picky Freak

It happens at least once a night. I get propositioned to join folks at their drop off location. I know what I’m up against when I drive in the late hours. The turnt. The lit. The freaks. They come out at night. 

I am them.

My first ride of the night was a man who claimed to be near my age. He didn’t proposition. He solicited, but only after propositioning many many many many many many times prior. He was a pepper salted blonde with a cherub like face that had been in the sun too long. He said he was 44.... But if he’s 44, then I’m 30. Because shit! I look good at 40. 

Moisturize and smoke your greens, kids. 

Well, he had just struck out at wherever he was. He said he was from out of town, visiting his old high school friend, whom he had reconnected with on Facebook, of course. 

“I had the biggest crush on her when we were kids.” he says. “And I guess she had a crush on me, too ....but not now.... Not 20 years later.”

“Yeah, I know how that goes.” I say.

“You do?... Well, what are you looking for?” he asks. I thought it was strange that he jumped.

“Me? Oh, I’m not looking in that department. Not any longer.” I reply. 

“Why not? Don’t you want to be loved?” he asks.

“Of course. But I’m not looking for love.” I say.

“What about a lover? Don’t you want to make love?” he asks.

“Uh, yeah. But that’s a hassle, too. I’m good.” I reply.

“Well, I think you are really beautiful.... I really love BBW’s.” he says.

I stared straight ahead and was about to say thank you but he says, “You know, big beautiful women.”

“Ha. I know what a BBW is. And thank youuuuu. I appreciate that.” I said but was starting to wonder why he felt the need to break it down for me. 

“No. You’re really really pretty. I just love your size.” he says. “I’d love to take you home with me.”

I just laughed and continued to drive while he continued to babble ... 

“Oh my God. You really are beautiful. Where I’m from, women like you won’t talk to me.”

“Where are you from?” I ask.

“Atlanta.” he says.

“Oh. Hahaha yeah, you’ll find less women of color in the south that date outside of their race.” 

“What about you?” he asks me.

“Um, well... up here in the Pacific Northwest, the white boys love the sistas and the brothas love the white girls. And I happen to love them both, so it’s whatever.”

“Oh wow. You know, when I see a woman like you, I just want to make love to her right there on the spot.” he says.

I’m thinking EW by now. LOL Not that I was even considering but what a way to turn a girl off. And he didn’t stop there. We start to turn the last corner before his hotel and he says, “Please, please come inside with me.”

“I can’t. I’m sorry. I’m a good girl and I need to make my money.” I say.

“I have money.” he replies. “I’ll give it all to you. Just come inside.”

Oh. Hell. No.

Ok, well, maybe if he had been better looking. 

haha

I said I was a freak. 

A picky freak.

[killercakedriver-blog]

Bald Lumberjack

I had just taken a pit stop in the bathroom of an AMPM. I was a tad tired but decided to continue on driving for the night. Only 30 seconds online and my phone chimes for a pickup 2 blocks away. 

I make my way across the intersection to see a man walking in the street, looking for me.

“Josh?”

“KillerCake?”

“That’s me.” ... and I open the door for him. 

Josh is cute. Tipsy. Black tee and jeans. Big beard. Baby face. He gets in and starts to rant about how I was the only driver to show up after he had attempted 3 other times and had been cancelled on. I blamed it on the busy downtown area that everyone wanted to be at. 

He says his ‘best friend’ ditched him. He had been at a strip club up the street for a while, where the ditching happened. 

“Wow. You are really beautiful. I really really love your hair.” he says to me, as he’s barely in the car for 2 minutes. I thank him for the compliment and he goes on to tell me how scrumptious my lips are. I thank him for that compliment, give him one in return and he goes on to tell me how much he would love to make out with me.

“Just make out! Remember that shit!? When we were kids? That was the best shit ever! Ever!! Just fucking kissing and getting all hot and shit!?” he says with extra enthusiasm from the back seat. 

“Yeah, those were the days.” I say in agreement. 

“Don’t you ever just want to make out with someone?” he asks.

“Well... yeah, who doesn’t? It’s good shit.” I reply. And now I’m asking myself why I answered in such a way. I mean, there really wasn’t a way to get this guy to stop talking about kissing me, no matter what I said.

As we drove across the bridge, I entertained his idea a bit in my head. I mean, he was definitely good looking. Definitely had it going on. Definitely had a sexy ass beard to compliment his bald shiny head and child like eyes. 

haha. His sincerity was so real.

So, by the time we pulled up to his location, he had scooted himself off of the back seat towards me with this look of eagerness and caution. I laughed and said, “Ok, you can have a kiss. Kiss me on the cheek.” He takes what he is given and wraps his arms around me to gently kiss me on my cheek. I pulled back to make sure he wasn’t going to snap my neck off... and the look on his face said ‘PLEEEEEEEEEEEASEEEEE KISS MEEEEE’.

So, I did.

I didn’t let him get too far. A peck wasn’t enough. But three smooches was. Shit, ya girl is on the clock. I gotta get back. I mean, I used that as an excuse as he insisted I come inside with him. (I know for a fact that making out isn’t all that he wanted.) Instead, he texted me for an hour after I left begging me to come back. 

Had I not been on my period, I may have.