Crazy Uber stories: The Uber driver who let his passengers take the wheel
In the city where cars buzzed like caffeinated bees, Barry, an unassumingly ordinary Uber driver with an extraordinary addiction to mobile games, discovered a lucrative but peculiar business proposition. The deal was plain and simple: Install a game tablet in his Uber, let the passengers play, and voila! He’d earn some extra cash based on the number of games played.
A game tablet in the back seat was like bringing a Vegas slot machine into his very own vehicle. Only, it was the passengers who would pull the lever, and Barry would watch the coins cha-ching into his digital wallet. A no-brainer, right?
Barry installed the tablet with enthusiastic vigor, his hands trembling slightly at the thought of the digital dollars that would soon be rolling in. He could almost hear the faint cries of virtual characters and the zesty music dancing out of the tablet. And dance it did, straight into Barry’s never-enough-gaming soul.
To make sure everything worked smoothly for his beloved passengers, Barry took the tablet for a test run. But as he navigated through the endless landscapes of “Candy Puzzlerama,” a dangerously addictive game where players popped colourful trinkets and were rewarded with a symphony of delightful sounds and screen showers of glittery sugar, Barry was hooked. Line, sinker, the whole darn fishing rod.
“Just one more level,” Barry muttered, a phrase that would become his mantra for the upcoming days and weeks.
His passion for games inadvertently turned his basic blue Uber into an unofficial mobile gaming booth. The back seat was transformed into an arena where digital battles were fought, high scores were shattered, and Barry slowly sunk into a candy-coloured abyss.
During rides, his eyes would dart back and forth between the rear-view mirror and the road, not to ensure the safety of his passengers, but to catch a glimpse of the gaming action happening in the back seat. Each “pop” and “bing” from the tablet was a siren call that dragged him further into the pixelated sea.
One uneventful Tuesday, he picked up Mrs. Parker, a spry octogenarian with a razor-sharp wit and a penchant for fast cars. Barry, with eyes glazed over and fingers twitching like a wild west gunslinger, took one look at Mrs. Parker, and an idea so absurd popped into his head that it circled around a few times before settling in.
What if – oh but it was too ridiculous to think – what if his passengers drove while he played? Mrs. Parker, unbeknownst to her, became Barry’s unwitting accomplice in his madcap scheme.
“You know, Mrs. Parker,” Barry began tentatively, “I’ve always thought you have the spirit of a NASCAR driver within you.”
Mrs. Parker’s eyes twinkled devilishly. “You, young man, might just be onto something.”
And so, Barry found himself in the back seat, tablet in hand, and Mrs. Parker at the helm, her foot heavy on the gas pedal. The car zipped through the city, an elderly speed demon and her entranced, gaming passenger navigating through both digital and asphalt jungles.
The game-induced bliss was soon to be shattered. You see, Mrs. Parker, a law-abiding citizen, never actually broke any traffic rules. Her ‘speed-demon’ persona was more of a fun, hypothetical imagination than reality. She drove at a meticulously careful pace, much to the chagrin of the traffic behind her.
Barry, entirely absorbed in his virtual world, didn’t notice the disgruntled drivers, the honking horns, or the occasional expressive hand gesture. That was until a police officer, with brows so furrowed they threatened to meet in the middle, tapped on the window.
The gaming tablet slipped from Barry’s fingers, landing with a thud on the car floor as reality thudded back into his brain. Mrs. Parker turned towards Barry, the remnants of her adventurous sparkle dulled by the grim seriousness of the officer outside.
The game was over, quite literally for Barry, and he had scored no extra life. Mrs. Parker, on the other hand, took it all in stride, explaining with a gentle smile, “Officer, you wouldn’t believe the day I’ve had.”
Barry’s Uber-driving days came to a screeching halt, his license revoked faster than Mrs. Parker’s 0-to-60. He was left with his trusty gaming tablet, a mountain of legal fees, and a lifetime of stories beginning with, “Did I ever tell you about the time I let an 80-year-old woman take the wheel of my Uber?”
