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Uber Joe’s Suspension
When A Beefy Horde of Unlikely Irish Need a Ride
I would have had a thousand dollar week, mostly out in Harford County, because so many people were getting drunk for Saint Patrick’s Day. But so many of them were black—which means big! Good God, I picked up these four girls, one tiny, petite white girl and three big black women. You would think that they’d put her in the middle in the back and even things out. But no, the three mammas sit in the back and my front wheels are barely touching.
Violence wise, it wasn’t a bad week, at least not for me. I’m out in Harford County all the time on the holiday week so I’m not picking up fares in your neighborhood—except this one guy. Now mind you, I had just had three big women in the back seat. Then I get a fare around the corner from your street, on Hamilton, where it crosses Belair Road and heads up to Walther on that steep hillside. I am not fooling when I tell you he was this wide [five feet] but only five six [in height]. He gets into the back seat, straddles the middle and the shocks are done! My car is creaking and whining going up that hill. I didn’t think I’d make it. I don’t see how he could weigh more than those three big women but he displaced more.
He was a nice guy and asked me how much I’d charge him to drive him to South Carolina. I told him that he’d have to Uber it and I’d take him. Then I turned my phone off and called it a week. I didn’t need him sweating in my back seat for eight hours.
I can’t wait to get a regular job. The money is good, but this beats up your car bad.
-Uber Joe
Waking Up in Indian Country: Harm City: 2015
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