This pax was totally wasted. Ok, AC on full blast, barf bag at the ready, sped through the shortest route (20 minutes away from already remote location)… and we’re finally there. Literally in the middle of nowhere, but there’s his house and his car on a driveway. Now let’s get him out of my car. Nudge-nudge, here’s your destination. “I’m good here, thanks”. Nudge-nudge, you’re home. “Back off, I ain’t no goin’ nowhere!”. Ok, I get out of the car, open his door and demand that he leaves. “BRING IT ON MOTHERFUCKER!”

…Really?! Ok, you’ve asked for it. Something in his tone suggested that he’s one of these super-entitled kids, “my dad is a judge” kind. So instead of tossing his ass on a driveway and calling it a night, I brought him to the nearest police station… merely 12 miles away from his home. Unfortunately, Google was wrong, and that PD was *not* open 24/7, so I had to make a 911 call to get some actual cops there.

Few minutes later:

  • Pax is outside, sobering up in a chilling wind and crying about his wasted life, but still mumbling incoherently
  • I saved his ass from a public intox arrest by letting the cops use an Uber relay to contact his GF (who ordered the ride), and she’s arranging for an alternate transportation
  • Cops are no longer bored on this uneventful weekday night.

My job here is done, so I hit “Complete the ride” and go home.