Goat Curry

You just worked a 15 hour day and it’s time to go home. Time to book an Uber "X" ride, NOT an Uber "Black"

You sigh as you call your Uber "X" and begin to walk away from your desk at the beloved investment bank. As you get in the elevator, you realize your ride home is going to be another fucking disaster, just as much as it was before you turned in those last set of comments

As you get in Johnny’s beat-up and despicable 2008 Toyota Corolla, you smell a thick waft of something rotting in the front seat. I wonder what the fuck that could be. Probably some Indian curry stench from last week. Oh yeah, Johnny hasn’t cleaned his car in months and you can smell a faint smell of puke from his weekend when some drunk hurled their brains out

“Hello, yes my name is Anon, and yes I am going to Murray Hill”

Now, we’ve all gotten to this point in our Uber and can’t wait for what’s next. Either Johnny is going to be 1) on the phone with his excuse of a girlfriend, or foreign business associate speaking some dumbass foreign language 2) has the waze-GPS audio on full blast because he’s hard of hearing as fuck, or the most frequent occurrence 3) Johnny just won’t shut the fuck up because he's a lonely creep and drives Uber because nobody would interact with him outside this type of forced encounter

I’ve learned to put my earbuds in and tell Johnny that I’ve gotta listen to a business meeting so I will be ignoring his dumb ass the whole ride. In reality I am actually listening to the hello kitty theme song on repeat.

As the ride commences, Johnny is an absolute shitty driver and does not understand his left from right pedal, constantly braking and accelerating like maybe a 16-year old kid just off the nipple would act when they are first learning to drive

Beep beep goes Johnny, acting like a coked up maniac at the wheel, because he knows that he’s playing against the clock - the faster he gets me to my apartment, the quicker he can order a fucking goat curry to fuck over the next passenger

Thank you