I drive for Uber and I’ve given a ride to a man who was tripping balls on magic mushrooms. He kept telling me and the other (much more coherent) passenger about how the road is the universe and each dashed line in the lane markings is a human lifetime. In retrospect, that ain’t half bad as far as analogies go.
I’m not a limo driver but the best day of my life was when I was 9 and my friend used to carpool us. However her father was a limo driver and on the last day of school he picked us up in the limo. Tens of kids were piled up at the window trying to look into it and me and my friend just strolled in and got into the limo.
Then we watched Finding Nemo on the way home.
My mom was a driver for about 12 years. She just said “A dead body.”
Apparently a bachelor party had booked the limo and had the partition up, they were doing drugs and apparently the guy OD’d and they just left him there.
Not mine, but a great read: Chinese Wedding.
Some woman got in carrying a life-sized-blow-up doll of Eminem. No one except the lady and “Eminem” was in the entire limo, so I was silent as I witnessed her doing some crazy sexual shit to the inflatable. Twas awkward as fuck.
6. Just the tip
I drove for a drunk bus company years ago in a college town that had a few limos for weddings and stuff.
Some Saturday night I drove for a couple that had rented the limo for an anniversary date night or something. I picked them up at their place to drive them into the city for their dinner, they were standard fare: fat, middle aged, quiet. The only thing out of the ordinary is the guy is already tipping me really well, and they hadn’t even eaten yet.
Anyways, they eat for a few hours and when I come pick them up, he folds another hundo into my palm and asks me if I can close the privacy divider. Sure I figure, they want to do some cute kissy stuff and whisper sweet nothings, up goes the divider. We weren’t three minutes from the restaurant when I got super freaked out because it felt like the limo was having serious engine problems. As I’m sure you can guess, and as I realized once the jerking went from forward to back to side to side: no engine problems, that guy was just railing the shit out of his wife. Like, hard. I was having trouble staying in the lane on the interstate home, and yes they fucked the entire 30 minute drive back.
Now, the company had a strict no fucking policy for riders, but there was something about the intensity of the fucking in the back of that limo that scared me. No way was I going to get in the way of that.
We finally arrived back at their place and as they crawled out, both visibly coated in sweat (or urine, who knows), that poor fat woman muttered something about the AC not working while the husband gave me another $200 and winked. And that was it.
Luckily, and who the fuck knows why, but it was company policy to clean the back out when you start your shift, and not at the end. Sorry other guy :/
7. Rag it up
A friend owns a limo company. A few weeks ago someone took a dump in the ice box in one of his limos. The best part was that someone from the party called a few days later and was like, “We left something in the limo”. Yes, yes you did.
My mother used to work for a company that built limos and party buses and the owner also ran a rental service.
They had one bus that was aptly named the “Stripper Bus,” the thing had poles, a see through shower, satin and velvet, everything.
The bus was rented out in Detroit one time and it came back in terrible condition, so bad that it had to come into the shop to have a lot of work done.
When my mom asked what happened the owner simply replied: “Fifteen cops and 30 hookers…”
My mom asked him what he was going to do about it and he kind of chuckled and said, “Who the fuck am I supposed to call? The cops?”
I drove for a town car company for a few years.
I picked up a guy that was a regular, he always had a ton of cash. My boss had me call him to pick him up. At the end of the night, he wanted a ride into downtown. Bars here close at 2 am, so it was weird he wanted to go to a bar at 2:30 in the morning.
My boss said if he’s paying, take him and drop him, then drive away.
As we’re making the half hour trek from the suburbs, he’s going on and on about the drugs he sells, the houses he keeps them at, he pulls out a shit ton of cash, asks me if I’ve ever seen $10,000 in cash before, proceeds to slap it across my face and laughs.
He’s wasted and babbling about his drug operation and illegal gambling ring. I bring him to the bar, ask for the fare money, and he tells me he’ll double it if I wait here for him real quick.
He runs into the bar, my boss tells me to wait for the money. He comes back out right about the time another car pulls up and starts eyeing me up. Being a lone female in this neighborhood isn’t the easiest. He tells me to come in quick. So I step inside the bar. Inside there are a ton of people getting high, snorting coke, and drinking way after this bar should be closed. I get stopped by some burly security guards, my passenger tells then I’m his personal driver, so they leave me alone.
He goes into the bathroom, comes out with an 8 ball of coke, then tells me it’s time to go. We go back to the car, and I’m ready to drop him off back in the suburbs. As I’m driving, he cuts four lines on the clipboard I do my paperwork on. He’s telling me about the cops he’s paid off.
As he’s telling me this, an officer pulls up next to us. He does a line, stares the officer down, they nod their heads at each other and the cop drives away. He does two more lines, then gets super paranoid. He’s rambling about how I must be a cop (I’m a big girl, not cop material at all) and tells me to prove I’m not by snorting a line. I refuse, nicely of course. I’m nervous by this point.
I get onto the highway and he’s freaking out harder. He pulls out a gun, places it to my head and tells me to snort the line or he’s going to shoot me. I get the car up to 95 miles an hour and inform him that if he shoots me, we’ll crash and he’ll die too. He sat there for a moment, smiles and says, “I like you. You can live.” He does the line and I drop him off at his place. He drops a grand on the seat and tells me to keep my fucking mouth shut. That was the scariest thing I’ve ever been through.
I was in Times Square right after a show let out on a Saturday night, needless to say a LOT of people around to witness a limo drive by with a 20-something woman hanging her head out the window vomiting on her long hair and all over the side of the limo. Proud night.
11. Man, that’s cool
My dad told me this one a bit ago.
He was in Monaco for some convention thing of my granddad’s when he was about 15, and they were staying at some little inexpensive pensione (bed and breakfast) in Antibes with lots of funky people, including the chauffeur for the prince of Oman. The British chauffeur, John, turned out to be quite funny, and my dad, aunt, and grandparents talked to him a few times. One day, my dad, aunt and grandparents were planning to go to the Monte Carlo Casino in their rental car for something to do. Having talked with them earlier, John overheard them, and offered my dad and aunt a ride in his Bentley since he had to pick up the ambassador around there anyway. So he drove them for almost an hour and the three of them talked in the front seat like friends, but right before they arrived, he pulled over and had them move to the back. They pulled up to the casino and two teenagers in their shorts, flip-flops and ray-bans come out, looking as important as the prince the Bentley was originally for.
In this case, I was a passenger. I felt terrible for our limo driver.
It was prom night 3 years ago. We took a limo from prom to a beach an hour and some change away. The kid whose dad rented the limo filled it with champagne, wine and other drinks (which, we finished at least four bottles of alcohol on the way over there. We were pretty tipsy, and My girlfriend and I were in the very back, whereas my best friend and her boyfriend were in the side seat. My girlfriend and I are talking- even making out a little- and next thing you know, we are watching my best friend ride some dick. Uhhh… Christ, dude. So they are going at it and she starts SCREAMING. The divider window rolls down, and I see our female limo driver’s eyes widen to the size of golf balls. And they still. Kept. Going. Me and GF are hiding our faces and the divider rolls up, and they finish. Whew, glad that’s over.
NOPE. Best friends boyfriend rolls the divider down, asks if we can stop. I roll my eyes but say nothing, and we stop, me, GF and limo driver all get out for a smoke and the other two go inside the gas station. We start having a convo- ‘You girls alright with that stuff…?’ ‘Yeah, it’s prom night, we get it-”
Suddenly, our friends are RUNNING to us. The limo driver doesn’t act shit, just drops her cig and run. We jump in the limo, and next thing I know, we see this dude holding his pants up and screaming at us as we drive off.
We all tipped her 150$ each. Apparently the friends started doing it in one of the aisles while an employee was up front and manager was in the RR. Never again.
13. What the hell?
I’ve seen some weird stuff. Most passengers are super-boring, so to go up on the crazy meter is tough. But I had one situation which takes the cake.
I was driving on one of the the busiest nights of the year. and once stuff had slowed down, I got a call for a guy who wanted four hours, but I was instructed to collect cash up front. No problem.
I pick the guy up, and he looks like he’s never slept indoors in his life. He’s ragged, dirty, and had already gotten kicked out of a gas station and a waffle house (and it takes some effort to get tossed from a Waffle House).
He gets in, hands me two hundred in cash, and starts by asking me to buy him cigarettes. I drive to the nearest place, and it was the place that tossed him a short while ago. They ask me if I was driving the crazy guy, I say yes, and they told me that I should get the money up front. OK. Weird. So, I get the smokes, and give them to the guy, and we’re driving around, kind of randomly. He stops me at a random corner, and he gets out, and just putters around.
He gets in, tells me he’s in the secret service, and he’s only dressed like this because people are trying to get him. He also informs me he’s engaged to Taylor Swift (uh huh), and he’s here to protect her from all the people out to get her, too. He talks about how in love they are, and so on. We drive around, and he tells me to call this number to the secret service. I dial it, figuring it was a joke. Nope. The real deal. The guy tells me to say random things, and the Secret Service switchboard operator tells me to call the local police, and then hangs up. Crazy guy tells me to call this other number for the White House, but this time, I demur.
He has me drive over to another building, and it turns out this is the Secret Service Building. He gets out, sits on the cold concrete, and starts yelling at passers-by. And then he waltzes right in at 6 am, and I’m thinking he’s going to tell whoever’s in there that’s he’s going to kill someone, and I’m in on it. I’m going to be disappeared, and no one will know why. Panicked, I called my dispatcher, and tell her that she may never see me again. She calms me down, and I tell her that they don’t hear from me, here’s why.
Well, crazy guy eventually comes out, and tells me he wants to go to a Walmart. I explain his time is almost up, and he peels off another Benjamin, and off we go. So I drive him to a Walmart, and he goes in. Fifteen minutes later, he leaves the Walmart with a netbook, a prepaid cellphone, and flanked by three managers. Apparently he was harassing other customers.
He gets in, and wants to go back. It turns out he’s staying in one of the grossest roach motels I’ve ever seen. He has me take his bags into his room, and it’s disgusting. The room looks like it hadn’t been cleaned in decades, no exaggeration.
As a tip, he gives me a county fair-quality framed picture of his “fiancee,” Taylor Swift. I accept it, leave, and sigh in relief that this creepo was out of my life. I’ve had other odd situations, but that took the cake.
My limo driver for Prom made an illegal u-turn on a major road and caused a 6 car pile up. He was making the turn to pick us up. We had no idea until we were sitting at the light waiting to leave and a lady came banging on the window that she was calling the police.
Once we heard him speak, it was clear he was intoxicated. We immediately got out of the limo and I sat on a bench in front of a Bank of America for over an hour waiting for our parents.
We forfeited our time and never did get our money back.
When my parents started dating, my dad was a limo driver for musicians who played in major concerts in Philadelphia. I can’t remember all of the stories, but I believe he said The Moody Blues were drunk assholes who threw things at their fans outside the limo.
Another story is on my parents’ second date, which was going to happen after he drove U2 to their concert. My dad picked my mom up, then picked up U2 from the airport, and they proceeded to be complete jerks to my mom. They got dropped off for their concert and my parents went to dinner.
My friend was a town car driver (those really nice private cars) and one night he picked up a group of drunk people, two women and two men. One of the women sits up front with him and starts slurring flirts at him. He is laughing and having a good time, but is paying attention to the road and doesn’t see her grab the intercom thing for the radio (the thing used to contact dispatch). By the time she realizes what she has in her hand, she has already pressed the button and is saying (to all of the other drivers and dispatch) “Mr. Driver, I wanna lick your balls!” Then she puts it down and doesn’t stop laughing the rest of the ride. I would have never believed him if I hadn’t done a ride along and talked to the other drivers that were working the night that happened. That’s just one of the many stories, but it’s my favorite.
I own a limo, so basically anything goes. If i’m not driving we draw straws to see who’s the sober driver.
One new years myself and a few of the guys went to town, stuck in traffic the flatmate stands out the sunroof, points at a group of chick’s and shouts “Hey, get in the rape wagon!” and they did. I’ll leave the rest to your imagination.
Having a few beers at home one day we decided we needed some lemon trees since we had no lemon slices for the corona, and they double as urinals. So we took the limo down to Palmers (plant retailer), and bought a couple of lemon trees. They were to tall to fit inside so we had the top’s of the trees sticking out of the sunroof. The look’s on people faces when a limo full of drunken westies drives past with tree’s sticking out of the sunroof was priceless.
We’ve taken it to the beach quite a few times when going to take the dog’s for a walk. People looking into the open rear window of the limo expecting to see people and it’s just the dog in the back by herself being chauffeur driven like the boss she is.
One night in town when I wasn’t driving and had drunk far too much, I was leaning out of the sunroof to talk to someone. The lights changed, my mate floored it and I fell out.
My limo has a rear facing bench seat in the middle, but no other real divider between the passenger compartment and the driver. I was driving a group of drunk very adventurous chick’s around one night and one of them leaned forward to give me a ‘thank you kiss’, one of her mates got in behind her and started fingering her or something because she started moaning and fell forward so that her face was in my lap. The thankyou kiss turned into a thank you blowjob.
There’s a lot more, but those are the more interesting ones that come to mind.