July 10, 2017

RideShare Confessions




Alright, is this thing on? Cool, alright, cool. Um, I guess, what’s up, Youtube? I’m not even sure if amateur vlogging is still a thing or if anyone will watch a black gay guy on the internet, but here I go. Shoot, is this my “My Coming Out” video already? Nah. I mean, the story I want to tell you all is basically me coming out in more ways than one.


Anyway, yeah. So, I’m not sure if this is going to be a regular thing, depends on how well this video does. As you can probably guess from the title, I drive for [company redacted]. These are my stories. Well, one of them, at least.


This actually happened three days ago, but it’s been on my mind all weekend. It must have been around 8:12 at night. Actually yeah, I’m checking my profile now. I picked this white girl up; excuse me, I picked up this drunk white woman. I’d guess she was fresh outta college or a couple years out cause she had definitely been pregaming but by herself which I found a little weird, but she also seemed to be headed over to a friend’s house from the address I was driving to.


So, she gets in my Honda Civic, backseat - thank God - and lets out this long burp that smells like Bud Light. I, too, have low standards for alcohol consumption. I know my stuff. Then she goes, “Oh my god, you’re gay. I love you. I feel safer already.” For a second I’m wondering how she figured I was gay, then I remembered I have a freaking rainbow flag keychain hanging from my rearview mirror. So I just smile into the mirror and say, “Yeah, yeah, I am.”


I’m hoping that’d be the end of it, but obviously I’m telling you this story for a reason. “I’ve never met a gay black guy before. Can you vogue?” She lives in this city and hasn’t been around enough black people that one of them’s gay, but she knows enough about us to ask me a dumb question like that? I blame Madonna. ...and yeah, of course I can vogue. Very well, no, so don’t ask me to do so in the comments, because I’m never gonna drink and vlog for ya’ll.


I try ignoring her by discreetly turning up the volume from my steering wheel hoping Ariana Grande would distract her, but she wasn’t drunk enough to start carpool karaoking. “I mean, can you? Cause I follow vogueclips on Instagram, and I feel like I’ve seen you on there.” Racist ass… “Naw, I’ve never been on there; don’t really go out like that.” That’s a lie, but I’m not tryna connect with her. Then she says, “That’s a shame. I’d love to see your sexy ass on a dancefloor sometime. Me and my friends are going to the Rockwell tonight. You should totally join us.” My Honda almost stopped like a record scratch. White girl say wha’?


I go, “Oh honey. No, no. I gay, me no bi, mami.” I’m just gonna apologize to all my Latinx viewers; that’s just how it came out. Papi at the corner store is just very influential over my speech pattern on occasion. But she didn’t even notice, she just goes says, “Yeah, but all my gay guy friends have slept with me. Like, only two of them said they liked it, but I don’t know, gay guys are usually just drawn to me, you know?”


“Well, I’m good. Also, I’m married.” Which isn’t a lie. See, kiss the ring, bitches! Maybe I’ll have him on sometime. Again depends on how well this goes.


Do you know what this lady responded with? “I don’t see what that has to do with anything?” Do white women have a stereotype of being homewreckers that I missed, or is she a special case?


I didn’t even want to look at her by this point, but then I hear her unlock her seatbelt. Next thing I know, I feel her breath on my neck. I flinch, but before I can get away, she starts sucking on my neck. Ya’ll, I can’t even lie to ya’ll, it felt oddly good. Maybe she actually had a secret talent for turning gay men. Maybe she was created in a lab by republicans. I may never know, cause then she bit into my neck and I could feel her starting to break the skin. So, I pinch my head to my shoulder to break free.


“Can you not? I’m actually Positive.” And that’s when she lost it. She yelled at me for me to stop the car and started calling me all kinds of names I can’t remember. But I let her out about five minutes from her friend’s place. “I can’t believe you tried to kill me, you freaking AIDS monkey,” and then she slammed the car. I didn’t even know people still spoke like that, but leave it to white people to surprise you with a vintage slur. Ya’ll it took a lot for me not to get out that car and give her a piece of my mind, but we were definitely in the white part of town, and I didn’t want to risk being the next name ya’ll chant. So I gave her one star and kept it moving.

Some of ya’ll might be asking why I didn’t report her? Honestly, it’s not a big deal. People freak out. I get it. They think HIV and AIDS are still death sentences. For real, there was a time in my life when I would have freaked out like that, too. Maybe I did freak out like that. But there’s so many steps and meds out there now. I could prob do another video just on that. But I ain’t a doctor; I’m just a driver. Maybe I’ll see you around. Til then, peace.

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