Sorry In Advance, Mom is a recurring post where we talk about modern day love (lol) and the trials and tribulations of dating in your late 20’s. ‘My Time in the Backseat’ was written earlier this year when I was still living in LA and regularly abusing the ease of Uber.
The affair started over a year ago. I’d heard friends and acquaintances talk of you, but felt scared to jump into something new. Could you be trusted? How would I know you wouldn’t let me down? There were others, sure. Promises of fleeting moments from point A to point B were romanticized in my head. Could it really be this easy? I held you in my hands. You were new, to me at least. I opened you and you came alive to my touch. And that’s when I knew: Uber, you were the one.
This is why I love you. Why I think I’ve always loved you.
I love a man who drives a car built in the past five years. He has a good driving record. Well, good enough. At certain moments he likes to drive fast, or even recklessly. I’ll roll the backseat window down just to feel alive again.
I love a man with two cell phones. One is for work, sure. But the other is for pleasure. Don’t take that personal call, baby. I’m sitting right back here.
I love a man who knows his way around LA. The winding streets stretch miles in every direction. Sometimes we go fast. You rush down the 405, weaving in and out with the ease and skill of an experienced lover. Sometimes we take our time. You stop every few minutes so we can remember who we are and also because of stoplights, I guess.
I love a man who gives me options. I can choose size and color with the quick flick of my thumb. I’m still young so I’m prone to stick with what I know. The X feels like home. But every once in awhile I’ll let loose and LIVE. Sometimes I’ll go black. It’s not true what they say. I’ve gone black, but also gone back. I could wax poetic about my abrupt fling with black XL. Sometimes a woman just needs to treat herself.
I love a man who is prompt. I know when you’re coming and feel a rush of excitement as you pull closer. Three minutes. Two minutes. One minute. You have arrived. Hope you have a full tank because we’re going for a ride.
I love a man who comes prepared. “I’ve been drinking,” I say. He offers me a TSA approved size bottle of water. It’s just small enough to hold in one hand, but big enough that it gets the job done. “I’ve been smoking,” I say. He hands me a small plastic bag filled with individually wrapped winter-fresh mints. I slip two in my purse without a word. I want to remember this later.
I love a man who knows I crave a life of leisure. I get in the car and am instantly surprised by how comfortable I am. He already moved the passenger seat as far up as his car allows. My legs stretch straight out. It feels like this back seat was made for me. No. It’s as if it was made for us.
I love a man who knows when to talk, and when to be silent. Sometimes we talk and laugh and stop only to gasp for air. There’s a thirst to learn as much as possible while our time is ticking down. Then sometimes we just listen to music. You play your favorite songs, but always ask if I want to listen to mine.
I love a man who can still surprise me after more than a year. What will you smell like? Just when I think I’ve exhausted every scent, you surprise me with a subtle whiff of new leather, a warm cloud of seasonal Axe body spray, or even the slightest hint of curry. It stimulates every sense in my body and sometimes fills my eyes with tears.
I love a man who can relax around me. I know you farted right before you picked me up. I don’t care – I’m in love!
I love a man who will give me a ride on those sweaty summer days. My hands still sticky from an ice cream cone that melted too fast. My bare legs sore from a day spent walking in the heat. You give me 25% off just because. I’ll never forget that, baby. That will stay with me forever.
And I love a man who is confident enough to tell me how he feels immediately after he performs. Give me those stars, baby. You know I already gave you all five. I left a comment but words can’t come close to telling you how I really feel. The character limit leaves me feeling dissatisfied. I had so much more to write. You were fantastic.
So thank you Uber. I can’t wait to be inside of you again.