Rival

November 10, 2019 3:52 a.m.

My final ride of the night was a woman who wanted me to slow-roll by her man’s house to see if he was cheating on her. Or, more accurately, to see if a female rival’s car was parked outside his house. 

It seemed from her perspective, the female rival was the aggressor. Not the unfaithful lover.

I was specifically instructed to drive slowly, but not stop. And not to look suspicious. 

This, despite the fact that there was a woman in a bathrobe and bonnet in my back seat looking out the window at 3:15 a.m. as we made multiple passes down this quiet residential street that likely hadn’t had any traffic in hours.

After the fourth pass, she said we could return to the apartment building where she had been picked up.

As we drove, I broke the silence.

“I’m just a guy who drives people around, and obviously I have no stake in this whatsoever… but if he’s putting you through this kind of heartache, is he really worth keeping around?”

She sat quietly, contemplating - whether she was contemplating my question or what she was going to do to me for not minding my own damn business, I don’t know, but she was contemplating something.

Finally, she spoke.

“You’re not wrong,” she said. “You… are not wrong.”

We arrived at her apartment and parted ways. I hope she finds peace, whatever that looks like for her.