A friend has been borrowing my truck for some work he’s doing. I don’t mind at all because Lloyd drops me off in the morning and – if I call him – picks me up. (Sometimes I walk home if the weather’s nice. I enjoy that.)
The other day, though, it was chilly. I called and got his voice mail. I started walking and called again. I kept walking and called again – I knew he was home. Finally he picked up. I heard the sounds of his dumb zombie game in the background. “I don’t know why I didn’t hear my phone. It’s right here.” Um, yeah.
By the time he got to me, I was almost home.
Worst. Uber. Ever.