I almost forgot! The story of the twentysomethings and the Fart of DOOOOM!
There were an extraordinary number of bachelorette parties downtown last night. Its getting to be wedding season, which I never thought of, and the numbers will likely increase in the near future. I approve of this as it means more UberXL rides for me.
I got a call to Cadillac Ranch, a country dance bar. It was an XL ride and I was just up the street so I was happy to have it. I get there and I am met by a girl in a nice dress, who informs me that the rest of the party is being rounded up. She asks me how many can fit in the van. I tell her I have had up to 9 people in the back but that I am willing to drive with as many as they can pile in back there. This makes her happy and she goes to check on the herding of her crew.
The girls start coming out and gathering around the door of the van. They are a loud and happy bunch, and I was amused by them. They spoke of being from Carmel, where they were headed next, wondered if everyone was in the group and figuring out seating arrangements.
8 girls pile in. One sits up front with me, the other 7 get in the back and there is some lap sitting but everyone is in and safe. They tell me they want to go to Zonies, a drag bar on East Washington street.
I didnt even think, I just blurted out "No, you dont."
The girl in the passenger seat looked at me and said "What?"
I said "No, you dont want to go there."
She asked why, and I explained that this wasnt where they belonged, where they would feel safe or comfortable or where they should be. We were driving down Meridian street by this time.
She was somewhat taken aback by my attitude, and assured me that they did want to go to Zonies. About this time someone in the way back asked where Jen was. There was a quick moment of confusion, followed by a quicker head count. It became apparent that Jen wasnt in the van, and one of the girls in the middle volunteered that she had been with Jen in the bathroom line just before we left.
We had abandoned Jen. I doubled back during a lull in traffic and we headed back to get her.
I found this situation hilarious, as did a few of the other girls. We were all laughing as the ringleader hushed us and told us that she was calling Jen. We hushed and she told Jen that we had to move because a cop came along and that we were on the opposite side of the street from the front door of the bar and were parked behind an F150. Apparently this was too difficult for Jen to grasp, so ringleader girl got out to go get Jen. They returned within minutes and ringleader girl called for a headcount. I remarked "Good idea, WE WOULDNT WANT TO ABANDON ANYONE." This brought on a gale of laughter from the rear of the van and earned me a dirty look from ringleader. Worth it.
With everyone aboard, we headed for Zonies. there was much laughing and shouting at random passers by and much talking to me by the girls sitting in the middle seats just behind me. They had made it clear by this point that they were the types I could flirt with and fuck with, so I let my natural sense of humor out a bit and there was much laughter.
The closer to Zonies we got, the quieter they got. There were remarks about being "in the hood", being kidnapped or killed, being in the wrong neighborhood and other stuff along the same lines. To someone from Carmel, I realized, Zonies would seem like a rough neighborhood. If I brought them and showed them where I lived they would have shat themselves in fear, most likely.
Ringleader girl asked if they could call me when they were ready to go to another bar. I said yes, and gave her my card. A few others, including the one in the group I found sexy as fuck and was very attracted to, took my cards and made various remarks about calling or texting me. We shall see, Im not expecting any calls or texts.
I bade them farewell and drove off to the next fare. Within 7 minutes, I was keeping track, a text came in. It literally said only "Come get us, comegetuscomeback". I LOL'd and called to find that it was ringleader, who asked me if I would come get them and said that they were in the wrong place and that I was right. I assured her I would be there within ten minutes, I needed to drop off a passenger first. She was relieved and said OK.
About fifteen minutes later, I got to Zonies and saw that they were all standing in a herd on the sidewalk outside the club. I pulled up and they piled in, we took a quick headcount, having learned our lesson, and I took off. Ringleader said I was right and the rest of them were talking about how they didnt like the bar. It should be noted at this point that I had the windows up and the AC on, it was rather warm in the van with all the people in there.
Ringleader asked me where they should go next and to pick out a bar for them. I told her I would and asked if they wanted to stay downtown of if they would go to Broad Ripple. I was, of course, thinking of that fat UberXL money from downtown to Broad Ripple. She said they needed to stay downtown. I said I had the perfect bar for them, a remark that was met with a cheer from the back of the van.
I told them they belonged at Howl At The Moon on Georgia St. I told them that was where their tribe would be, their people. Ringleader agreed and off we went.
About a minute later I felt a pressure and started thinking. I made a bet with myself that I could cropdust these bitches and totally get away with it. I admit, Facebook readers, I was thinking partially of you and telling you the story if I succeeded.
I waited for a particularly loud burst of laughter, which wasnt a long wait at all, and I let fly. I waited anxiously for the reaction.
It didnt take long.
A wave of silence moved back from the front of the van, likely moving with the smell. Someone in the back voiced a question about a smell. A dog barked off in the distance, crickets would have chirped but were too damned embarrassed by the smell.
“Oh my GOD, which one of you bitches fucking farted?!”
The question was raised from directly behind me at top volume. I feared for a moment that the locale of the questioner would lead to me being found out and subsequently busted, but these women were no Sherlocks and I shortly realized that.
There was a general cry of dismay and alarm at the smell. I joined in and voiced the opinion that whoever farted must have had something crawl up inside of them and die, a line I blatantly steal from Richard Pryor every time I have need of it. I quickly, or not so quickly but making it seem so, opened the back vent windows and rolled the front windows down. I did it in that specific order so that every girl in the van would get a facefull of The Funk as it rolled out the back windows. I succeeded.
Blame was passed around but never assigned definitely. I was internally LOL’ing very hard and enjoying my work.
That was a fun ride.
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