My Uber Driver Told Me He Loved Me. I Think I Loved Him Too
“Now this wasn’t the first time a man I just met told me he loved me. But this was the first time I accepted this sentiment as authentic, and not a ploy to mistreat me under the guise of a romantic relationship or get in my pants.”
It was a rainy, gloomy Saturday afternoon. I was in my apartment, spending the next few minutes putting together a makeshift overnight bag so I could spend the rest of the weekend with my boyfriend and his kids.
While I was stuffing socks and pajama bottoms in an old black backpack I found in the back of my closet I glanced at my phone. My Uber driver was arriving at my apartment in less than three minutes. I panicked as I stuffed my feet into my flats and zipped up my backpack. I doubled checked my bag to ensure that I had everything so I wouldn’t disrespect the driver’s time by having him wait on me to get my life together. I despise being waited on with a passion.
Once my Uber arrived I decided to wing it and not grab an umbrella. I was heading straight to my boyfriend’s Brooklyn apartment, and I was sure he had an umbrella I could borrow should I see grey skies when I woke up next to him on Monday morning.
I walked outside quickly in the light rain and opened the grey car door. My driver was an older adorable man who watched me get…
