I spent weeks with this man, day in, day out, but what do I really know abouthim? Like, does he haveseventy-two women in a basement somewhere?Does hehave an outdoor heater?
‘Seriously, Uber Driver,’ I clear my throat, stopping just short of the bar. ‘What are you doing here? Did you get an international fare that was too good to miss?’ I say, keeping my tone light, but gripping the keys between my fingers. I’m so glad Mark and Joe are nearby.
‘It’s the big romanticgesture, isn’t it?’ he says, grinning. ‘Like in the movies. I’m here to declare that I’m in love with you and we should be together.’
I laugh, I can’t help it. What the hell is he talking about?
‘You’re not in love with me, you moron! We had a few weeks of sex!’ I say, waving my hand. ‘It’s the chemicals and blue balls talking.’
‘It’s not!’ he shakes his head. ‘I know you didn’t meanwhat you said in that text, I know you really like me.’
‘Dom,’ I take a deep breath, ‘I wasn’t, like,testingyou when I said that I wasn’t interested. It wasn’t me playing hard to get or trying to upset you. It wasn’t aployto make you try harder. I’ve realised I hate all those kinds of games, they’re boring and get you nowhere. I’ve spent years doing that with my ex and I hate it. Neveragain. I sent that message because I wanted to be honest with you. We had a fun time and, sure, I like you as a person – occasional jealous rages aside – but I was only ever there for a month. It was what it was, nothing more. I’m sorry.’
Ugh, I hate that we teach men that persistence will get them whatever they want. That ‘no’ means, ‘keep trying’, and that it is ‘romantic’ to stalk a womanhalfway across the world after she’s already said she doesn’t want to date you. I just really want to live in a world where men believe a woman when she says nah.
‘OK, just hear me out,’ he says, undeterred. ‘Alice, I understand what you’re saying, but I think you’re wrong. You must see it too – it’s so obvious that we’re right for each other! I know it.’ Inspiration strikes him and he adds,‘We’re both 3.5s! Our Uber rating! We are life’s 3.5 types. We will never be rich or famous or particularly cool. We aremiddle-of-the-road people, average. We are the same level, the same type! And that’s why we should be together. We need each other because we are a 3.5 match. The 3.5s belong together.’
I consider this.
I’m a 3.5? Am I though? Is that how he sees me?
Hold on.
OK, maybe I am a 3.5, but I want to meet someone who sees me as a full five stars. Or more! I want to meet someone one day who sees me as worth more stars than the Uber system is capable of awarding. That doesn’t seem like too low a bar to set. And here is Dom, telling me we should settle for each other because we’re both onlyOK. I get it, it makes some kind of warped sense – and if this werethree months ago, I think I would’ve jumped on the offer. Something in me would’ve liked that he was putting me down and offering to keep me down. But not any more. Getting a 3.5 offer is not enough for me. It shouldn’t be enough for anyone.
‘I see what you’re saying,’ I tell him slowly, kindly. ‘But I don’t want to be a 3.5. If you and me settle for each other, we will always stay at thatlevel. We won’t ever try to be better versions of ourselves. If I’m with someone, I need them to be someone who brings out the best in me – a guy who makes me a five, Dom. And more than that, I want to be a five on my own.’
He looks defeated. ‘But I ...’
‘Thank you for your interest,’ I add robotically like a sales assistant. ‘But no, thank you.’
He sags but nods. ‘OKAlice,’ hesays nicely. ‘I understand, and thanks, I guess, for being honest with me. I’m really sorry for turning up like this. I know I seem all over the place. I just felt like such a fool for the way I acted, and wanted to do the grand gesture thing. I feel a little silly now.’ He laughs nervously.
‘Don’t feel silly!’ I say. ‘It’s nice to see you – as a friend – and if you don’t have to rush off,it would be great to have a catch up. My brother and his boyfriend over there are celebrating, and you’re very welcome to join us!’ I pause and add, ‘Seriously, Uber Driver, I had such a wonderful time with you. I’ll never forget it. You made my LA adventure something really special. Plus ...’ I laugh, ‘... I will always be grateful to you for helping me realise there is more out there than mystupid ex.’
He smiles but it is a thin smile. ‘You know,’ he says sighing. ‘It really hurt me every time you openly texted him in front of me. And the way you would joke about using me to get over him?’
I am stung. ‘Huh? But you always laughed! I thought it was part of what we were doing? It was, y’know, part of our shtick!’
He sighs. ‘I smiled because it hurt, Alice. Don’t you knowanything about human behaviour? We smile through our pain. We laugh when we are hurt.’
Well that is true enough. And stupid enough.
‘Oh my God, Uber Driver, I’m so sorry,’ I say, meaning it. ‘I’ve been realising lately that sometimes I can be thoughtlessly mean and unkind. I’m working on it.’
‘Also, please don’t call me Uber Driver,’ he says a little haughtily. ‘My name is Dom. Callingme Uber Driver is very dehumanising.’
‘Oh, cripes, I’m so sorry.’ I am mortified.
‘And never say “cripes” again,’ he says, but now he is smiling properly. ‘Because that is really embarrassing.’
‘Right, yes,’ I smile back. ‘I don’t know where that came from. Sometimes Americans bring out the British in me.’
‘Yeah,’ he says laughing. ‘I didn’t think Brits ever really said “gosh”until I met you. You are one of a kind.’
‘To be fair, they don’t,’ I confirm. ‘I only say things like “cripes” or “gosh” in America, never in England. It’s like achat-up line to make the Yanks melt.’
We grin at each other and it isOK. I am relieved. The grip on my keys loosens and I step towards the bar.
‘Let’s get drunk together one last time,’ I say, leaning towards the barmanto order shots.
