When I had the realization that you could request your Uber rating from the “Help” menu within the app, I thought it was a mere formality that I’d go through the motions only to receive an email that told me I had five stars. But then I saw this.
4.9, man. I’m not saying that Uber needs to institute some Olympic-style scoring system where the lowest and top scores are both dropped, but I’m also not saying that I’m not slightly perturbed by one apple spoiling the whole bunch in this current situation.
Have you no chill, Uber Driver Who Unjustly Gave Me Less Than The Five Stars I Deserve? I know you’re kind enough to pick me up in the car you purchased yourself and shuttled me from home-to-bar or bar-to-home. I know you’re the reason I don’t have any DUIs. I know you bought those waters and offered me that gum because you’re hospitable as hell. And that’s why I gave you five stars. But you couldn’t reciprocate? Come on.
I mean, I thought we had something. Sure, I don’t totally remember the ride home last Friday night. And yeah, I was in a bad mood a few Wednesdays ago when I declined to entertain your questions about how long I’ve lived here. But we need to be understanding of one another’s life situations. Everyone has bad days.
Are you trying to tell me that you’ve never had too much to drink and maybe dozed off briefly after you left the bar? Actually, don’t answer that for fear of you making me feel like a complete degenerate. But furthermore, you can’t tell me you always want to engage in every conversation someone starts with you.
Was it because I always sit in the backseat? Was it because I was overly inquisitive about your life at 2 a.m. when you just wanted to go home? Maybe it was because I got handsy after a date in the backseat and you felt uncomfortable. Perhaps it was because I made you drive through Whataburger after last call. But I bought you a taquito, fam. I just don’t know. I’m at a complete loss.
But you know what, Uber Driver Who Wasn’t Taken By The Charm Of Will deFries? Perhaps rather than chastising you for misreading how awesome I am, maybe I should thank you. Maybe I should show some appreciation for you holding me to a higher standard than I hold myself to. Maybe I should buckle down and reassess not only how I treat other people, but how I’m treating myself. I consider myself to be fairly self-aware, but if people are giving me four stars when I think I should constantly be garnering five? A change needs to come.
Or fuck it. I’m just going to blame this one on the bachelorette party I was with a couple months back that bogarted my Uber only to blast Iggy Azalea the entire way home while everyone sat on each other’s laps. Thanks for nothing, ladies. .
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