That Sedan That Just Pulled up Is Definitely Your Uber. Jump In. Don’t Even Ask.

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It’s brunch time in Collegetown on a Sunday. You just finished this month’s drinking challenge at your favorite unspecified brunch spot in one sitting, with only Captain Crunch pancakes and a single bite of Jessica’s bacon to soak up the liquor in your stomach. You and your group of seven drop a ten dollar bill on the table, put on the February Challenge shirt over the November Challenge shirt you were already wearing and confidently stumble around the barriers and down the steps to the corner of Woodward and Madison. You turn to admire the football stadium and wonder why FSU hasn’t made it bigger yet. If you were president, that stadium would be fucking HUGE.

Florida State is your world, and all these other suckers are just living in it.

It’s been a full minute since you and your squad called for an UberX, which for all you know could be a pedicab with a red wagon attached to the back for extra seating. In fact, there happens to be a blue sedan inching towards the corner where you’re standing. The driver is taking care to avoid the other drunk brunchers who sacrificed studying for their economics test to eat an overpriced french toast breakfast as they stumble across the road. This has to be you. You’ve never been wrong about anything in your life, and you’re sure as shit not about to start now, right?

This tiny blue car is definitely your Uber. Jump in. Don’t even ask.

Everything about this situation is telling you to amble across Madison and pull on one of the door handles until it opens like an impatient five-year-old. You’re given a warm welcome from the driver and all three of their passengers who are urging you to come join them. They’re looking, waving, even yelling. You’re the hottest shit at FSU. Just accept their invitation and join them for the half mile ride back to your studio apartment. You can figure out the space issue later; laps aren’t an inconvenience. 

That’s it. Before you know it, the door is flung wide open as two of your friends are walking around the car to enter from the other side. One of the current passengers, terrified, says something like “close enough” to the driver and they empty out, making room for you and your six pals to offer unsolicited driving instructions to this stranger after successfully ripping the aux cord from his Android. Your Sunday brunch missions is accomplished. To celebrate, you play Bodak Yellow at full volume and ruin the sound system in this man’s Mazda 3. Fuck YES.