Drunk-Ass Karen and the Lost Wallet
It was almost 10 pm when I picked up this couple from a gas station for a trip down to Isleta Casino, about a 20 minute ride. I asked the woman to put her mask on. I could tell by her pissy expression that she didn’t like the idea, but she did anyway.
It was Saturday, and she was borderline stumbling drunk. In the car she was dancing, if you can call it that: hands on the car roof, thrusting her hips, doing odd things with her hands. Cringey drunk white girl stuff. Then she puts her feet atop the back of the passenger seat. Her boyfriend made her put it back down, but she kept trying, and finally she stopped. At some point she removed her mask, but I didn’t notice until we almost arrived at the casino. Her dancing had slipped into sleeping with her head lolled and her mouth open. I dropped them off, glad to be rid of too-drunk white girl.
Alas, the story does not end here.
I get all the way back into Albuquerque and pick up three women from Denver, and someone says, “Someone left their wallet back here!”
I groaned and took the zippered, leather item, a woman’s wallet. As soon As I placed it inside the center console, my phone rang. Of course, it was dancing rude Karen, and she was wanting me to drive all the way back to Isleta. On speakerphone (I was driving, remember) I told her that wasn’t possible, I had passengers in the car. There was a long silence, voices in the background, and after a few “hellos?” I hung up.
The passenger to my left complimented my patience.
But Karen was not done trying to convince me to drive the distance back to Isleta, and called again. I asked her if there was a friend in Albuquerque I could give her wallet to and she said no. She was demanding I drive back down there for her, effectively taking 45 minutes out of my work day for her, as if somehow it’s my fault she left her wallet in the Uber. Again, she started talking with her boyfriend and I waited. And then I hung up again. It was rude to my current passengers to keep talking with her. It was likely making their ride uncomfortable.
She tried to call three more times, but I didn’t bother to answer. Luckily, my passengers were finding drunk Karen more entertaining than annoying.
After I dropped them off I had another call in the queue and did that drive before turning off ride acceptance. I parked and called the account Karen had her ride from. boyfriend, and now he was super rude and pissed, but was trying to see if there was an address in town they could meet me at. I was doubtful, but receptive until I heard Karen in the background, “My dad’s a cop! I’m going to have the police after you!”
My reply was swift, “You wanna call the cops? Fine.” I hung up for the final time. Fuck them.
But, I didn’t steal the wallet. I texted Uber support to get an address I could mail the wallet to. They contacted Karen’s boy and got back to me with an address in Albuquerque. Karen doesn’t have any friends there? I can see why.
I mailed the wallet on Monday. But still, fuck them.