Not Confession

Trip length: 24 minutes. Trip distance: 8.4 miles.

Fare: $38.47 (2.2x surge).

Song of the trip: "Disappear" by INXS

Some people think that driving on New Year's is a guaranteed way for a rideshare driver to make a ton of cash, and while that used to be true years ago, the last few years it has been nothing less than an utter shitshow, with people going out of their way to be on their worst behavior. Add that into the fact that it's the night you're most likely to be hit by a drunk driver. Considering that fares (surge pricing especially) has gone down a lot, I know a lot of other drivers have just given up on driving on the night at all, citing that it isn't worth the hassle.

Me, I need the money, sadly.

It's been busy, but not exceptionally so, just like a typical weekend night, but I glanced at my trip history and not one person has tipped thusfar tonight, and I'm starting to consider just packing it in and heading home. Of course, it's coming up on midnight, so I imagine there will be a quick surge, so I'll want to hit that if I can.

I'm on guard, though, because not more than an hour ago, I saw some jackass trying to outrun California Highway Patrol on southbound 101, and they were swerving all over the place. You can bet that didn't make me any more relaxed. Always keep your head on a swivel, I say, and the minute you lose focus, you're already in an accident, explaining how you just missed the parked tree.

I'm in downtown Los Gatos, and while the calls go dead at about 11:45, I know they'll spring back up again at midnight. So, naturally, I turn the app to offline. One of the tricks I learned early on is that if you guaranteed know there is going to be surge incoming, you go offline and wait a few minutes until you're right in the thick of it, then turn on and take advantage of the higher rates.

At 12:10, I switch back to online, and sure enough, its barely ten seconds before a fare request pops up, less than a quarter of a mile away, and at 2.2x surge pricing. I could gamble and pass, hoping that the surge rate continues to go up, but it's been so unreliable the last few years, I'm fairly certain this may be the best I see all night. The days of 4x-10x surges seem like they're a thing of the past, much to driver's dismay.

The pickup is at the other end of the strip of downtown Los Gatos, but not at Los Gatos Bar and Grill, but at a bar just a little further past that. It's a short little jaunt, and in just a few minutes, I'm pulling up in front of the bar, and there are two men and a woman standing there.

Perhaps 'standing' is a bit generous. One of the men is standing, and the woman looks mostly fine, but she has a guy draped around her who looks like he's staggering. The stable guy, a hulking mass in an expensive suit, opens the front door and pokes his head in. "You're Billy for Alexi, yes?"

"That's me, so I assume that's you." I see him motioning for the other two to move towards the back door of the car. "If he pukes in here, you know you're liable for it, yeah?"

"He won't puke. He's not as weak as he looks." Alexi's voice has an undercurrent of a Russian accent, but not so strong as to make it hard to comprehend him. I'm guessing he's been stateside a while now. "I guarantee this."

I shrug a little. "It's your money if he does, so I guess you are." If someone pukes in the car, we take pictures and file a cleaning notice, and the company bills them for it, all of which is paid directly to the driver. It's less than it used to be when I started driving, much to my annoyance, because it doesn't take into account any lost fares I would've made while I'm pulled over cleaning up my car.

The woman helps the other man into the backseat, and he slides across my leather seats and moves over to the far corner, pressing himself up against the car door. She moves in after him and pulls the door shut behind her, leaning herself on other door, trying to keep herself as far away from him as possible. I swipe my fingertip across the bottom of the phone to start the trip as they get in.

Alexi slides into the front passenger seat and pulls the door closed. "It's going to be two stops. The address I gave you, then another stop about a mile from there."

I nod. "Yep, you called for an X, so the car is yours until the fare ends."

"Get this fucking thing moving, asshole," the guy in the back says. My fingers curl on the steering wheel, tightening, wondering if I should just throw them out right now.

"Viktor, shut the fuck up," the woman says. "You are lucky Alexi is getting us home."

Alexi sighs, reaches into his pocket and pulls out his wallet. He opens it, and fishes out a twenty, holding it out to me. "Because I know this may be an unpleasant ride, this is for you in advance, along with my apologies."

I pause, considering the bill for a moment, then take it from him, folding it up and shoving it into the front pocket of my jeans. "Still going to be a cleaning fee if he pukes."

"He won't," the woman says.

My finger turns off the hazards and then I drop my hand to the shifter, taking us from park to drive, before my foot starts to ease off the brake. The app estimates it should only take us about twenty minutes to get where we're going.

"Thank you for the night tonight Alexi. I enjoyed that party," the woman says. Her voice has a thicker Russian accent than his does, but she has a more middle eastern look to her, which has a slightly jarring dissonance.

"Yes, Alexi, thaaaaaaaaaank yooooooouuuuu... Elena and I had so much fun. You prick." Viktor's also got a Russian accent, but I imagine it's amplified by the fact that he is practically sweating alcohol at this point.

"Viktor, what is your problem?"

The two in the back devolve into an argument that I wish I could tune out, but unfortunately they're both loud enough that there's nowhere to escape in the car. It doesn't even sound like it's about anything important - he's drunk, she's combative.

"Has it been crazy on the road tonight?" Alexi asks me, clearly trying to stay out of the mess behind us.

"A few odds and sods, but not anywhere near as bad as last year."

"What happened last year?"

"Guy jumped his car off an offramp and got it stuck up in a tree before ten o'clock. Sort of set the tone for the whole New Year's."

"Da, not a good year for anyone, I think."

I feel Viktor smacking his hand against my shoulder and Elena pulls his hand away. At this point, I realize Viktor has been bitching at me. "Why won't my fucking window go all the way down, you fuckwit?"

"That's as far as they go in the back. And if you touch me again, I'm pulling the car over and throwing everybody out." I tend to be fairly lax when it comes to dealing with drunks, but the minute they start touching, all the compassion in the world goes out the window.

Elena's pushing Viktor back into his seat, and while he's trying to squirm a bit, she slaps him right across the face. Not enough to leave a mark, but enough so that he knows she's done enduring his drunken buffoonery. "Please Mr. Driver, do not give my friend a bad rating for my husband's actions." Husband? I wouldn't have read that when I saw them get in.

"Keep him in check." I add enough bass to my voice so it sounds like it has some threat implied in it.

"Viktor, sit the fuck down, and shut the fuck up, before I have the driver pull over and throw just you out of this car." Alexi's got more bass than I do, and it seems to cow Viktor a bit. Of course, Alexi's a good half a foot taller than I am, and built like a linebacker. I'm mostly glad he's not the asshole in the car.

The rest of the drive is incident free, although Viktor and Elena are bickering again, thankfully keeping their volumes low enough that it doesn't offer much in the way of distraction. "Here we go," I say, pushing my foot on the brake and tapping on my hazards. We're just outside of a condo complex, and while I'm sure they're a ways in, Alexi isn't asking me to drive them to a specific building, and I'm certainly not going to volunteer.

Elena thrusts an arm in the front between the seats, clutching at a ten dollar bill, extending it towards me. "For you. Please do not give my friend a bad rating." This time, I take the bill without comment, and she seems to think that's tacit agreement, as Viktor opens the door and nearly falls out of the car. He gets himself untangled from the seatbelt, and extricates himself from the car with more effort than it should take, before he slams the door behind him, walking away from us, flipping off the car, shouting at the top of his lungs. "ASSHOLE!" Elena hops out the other side and rushes over to him, just about the time he's bending over and puking on the street.

"Looks like your luck held," I tell Alexi, as he's typing the new address into his phone. My phone chirps, notifying me that our destination has changed, and I turn off the hazards and ease off the brake. It's only about a mile and a half away, so I should be done with this quickly enough.

"Viktor knew what would happen if he embarrassed me by vomiting. He would never lose face that way." I don't really know what to say to that, so I don't respond. A minute or so later, Alexi drops the bombshell on me. "I have had his wife before. She does not deserve such a weak willed man, but if Viktor would only temper his drinking, he could improve upon his life. Instead, his wife seeks comfort in the arms of other men, and so, her needs have been tended to by me on more than one occasion." I'm not sure what to say to that, so again, I remain quiet. "You might think it odd that I would allow a friend's wife to cheat on him with me, but she has needs, and he is unable to fulfill those needs, so it would be worse if I did not. She would simply go to someone else, someone less... discrete."

"Hey man, I just drive the car. I'm not a priest. It's not confession, and telling me your sins doesn't absolve you of them."

Alexi tilts his head. "Are you a religious man, Billy?"

"Atheist. Have been for a long time."

He tips his head, maybe a nod of amusement. "I do believe in God, and I believe God will tell me when I die that I have done the right thing in keeping his wife sexually sated. And if I am wrong, then I will have a long talk with God about what I should have done instead."

What do you do with a guy who sounds like he's threatening to beat up God? You get him home and try not to get on his bad side. So that's just what I did.