7-Eleven and the Drunken Uber Passenger that Wanted to Get Drunker
Nobody wanted to get more fucked up than me. I quit my job at a prestigious entertainment news outlet.
When I got the gig — I knew I would be overworked and underpaid. I just didn’t realize that I would be crazed and borderline demonic.
I had to restore my settings back to the visuals that don’t save but satisfy.
So, now I’m headed home after all was said and done. It was a bittersweet parting that warranted a smooth ride home.
But 7-Eleven got in the way.
The passenger that pooled with me reeked of alcohol when be sat beside me. His bag made the sound of bottles banging against each other.
At every stop light — I prayed that the air would carry us closer to the freedom of souls. I would release my fury and he would be cleansed from his.
As we approached the intersection he ordered the driver to stop at the 7-Eleven.
I though it was his stop but it was really his selfish need to replenish.
The driver asked if I was okay with this request and I responded — ”yes.”
It was out of fear and exhaustion.
Serial killers don’t have the patience for halted detours. I’m not in the habit of getting in the way.
We didn’t stop at 7-Eleven.
The driver conveniently missed that stop and I was inwardly grateful. We dropped off the loser eventually and I embarked on the slowest ride home.
Slow because I was all in my feelings and my Uber driver took the worst route ever— while I assessed the time it normally takes me to get to my gate on the street.
I get there. Finally.
I thank him and walk fast to the gate and into the triangular square that leads to the sublet of my freedom.
It will be a short trip to satisfaction. That’s what I think as I undress and survey the body and face that still remains recognizable after almost two months of vampire-like existence.
I open the fridge after a good scrub down and notice that my liquor-free night was dissolving on eye contact.
The couch. The Fall. Netflix. The Fall. The escape.
The Uber driver that drove like a student but got me home without the ploys of 7-Eleven.
I was sober then. I still am.