“Driver says he’s outside. Let’s move it!”
The party made way down the dingy apartment stairwell, stepping over 12Bs ever present backpack and dodging 8Bs bike that had been out front for three days. Someone should make sure he’s okay thought 8Bs neighbor.
Not tonight though. Tonight was PARTY night and the Uber had just arrived.
“Tequila!” Was shouted repeatedly as the four friends made their way to the sidewalk and looked for their ride.
“Taylor?” Asked a young entirely too blonde man wearing both a belt and suspenders.
Taylor knew why her name was being called and she did not like it.
“You’re the Uber driver?” She queried. “You said you had a black car.”
“Oh shucksters,” the oddly bearded man said, “that should have said cart. I am going to sorta’ rickshaw your group around town. I’m the Uber cart guy. It’s kinda’ my brand,” he said smiling smugly.
“It’s friggin’ cold and windy out. Why doesn’t your cart have a roof?” Taylor’s friend asked.
“Well, that would make it a buggy and I am not about to open my brand to being called the bug guy. No thank you,” the driver said laughing off the very suggestion.
The group of friends looked at each other for a moment before Taylor spoke up, “well, it would be pretty unique to roll up in a cart.”
“Totes,” a friend agreed.
“Awesome sauce!” The driver said as the passengers took their seats in the cart, “this is so good for my brand.”
Thanks for reading!