Rideshare

You pull your phone out, and schedule a ride using your favorite pink-iconed app. DRIVER IS 2 MINUTES AWAY. The update flashes on your screen. Your driver’s name is Devin, and he should be in a Silver Toyota Camry.

As you stand outside, waiting for your chariot to harbor you to your doctor, you’re thankful for the unseasonably warm week the weather has been having.

“Thank you Global Warming,” You think sarcastically.

“Are you Alex?” You hear a man’s voice bellow. You snap out of your thought to see a man leaning out of the driver’s window of a Silver Toyota Camry.

“You must be Devin!” You say, shocking yourself with your enthusiasm for the situation.

“Hold on! Let me get the back door for you,” Devin, the driver offers. The driver side door opens, and Devin steps out. Your Lyft driver, who is currently clamoring to open his car’s back passenger door, was taller than you expected.

Devin’s hair was dark, short and messy, connecting to a tightly cropped beard and mustache. He was about 6’6”, wearing a short sleeved button-up shirt that cling to his lean athletic frame and a pair of light khaki shorts. You’re eyes focused on the front of his shorts as he opened the door for you to enter.

“There’s no way that bulge is what I think it is? Wait, what am I saying? Why did I start thinking about his crotch?” Your mind raced. Just last night you were having a wet dream about a hot girl, and now your brain was unconsciously focusing on the trouser snake of your driver.

“Come on in,” Devin says, holding the car door open for you. “Are you ready to ride?”