Ugh. This is just my luck. On the week when my Klout score has gone to hell, I get the ONE cab driver in the city who actually obeys basic traffic laws!
It’s like this guy is trying to kill me… socially.
If I don’t see my life flash before me, then how am I supposed to enhance my online social presence?!
Stacey Descalso’s page blew up after she posted on Facebook: “Welp, if I die in this cab ride, please give all of my possessions to my dog. #DeathCabForThisCutie.” She got 46 comments and 88 likes. 88! I need a hit like that bad. I haven’t gotten over ten likes on a single post in over a week. Momma is due.
And jumping into this cab was supposed to be my fail-proof plan until this asshole who is driving me around safely had to go and ruin it!
Oh my god, did he just make a complete stop at a four-way?! Jesus, this is ridiculous. Just who in the hell does this guy think he is?!
I swear, if he doesn’t give me at least a little bit of whiplash, I’m not going to tip him. I’m just not. That’s my right as a passenger who has a diverse online social profile to maintain.
Ok, ok, think. There’s got to be something disconcerting in this cab that I can write about in order to revitalize my online brand. A vaguely racist manifesto attached to the back of the seat, a photo where he looks like a serial killer, or a taxi ID number that is clearly handwritten. There’s nothing. He’s clean.
Hey, buddy, you know it’s going to be hard for me to report my imminent demise to my friends and family when you’re actively using your turn signals, right!?
You know who probably has a higher Klout score than me? Travis Stalling, and that loser still has the exact same social circle as he did in high school.
UGH. YOU ARE KILLING ME BY NOT TRYING TO KILL ME!
I swear, I am this close to actually paying to promote a tweet. I know I said that I would never spend money to market myself, but I don’t see what other options I have. I mean, I guess I could write a cryptic post about my health, but I feel like you can only get away with doing that once or twice a year, tops.
Wait a second: is that a pink mustache on a car?
It’s a Lyft cab! Pull over here. I think I just found my savior! Fingers crossed that whoever is behind that wheel will make me worry about my well-being!