One literally saved our lives.

Another, perhaps thinking we were a couple, told us obviously made-up stories of his sexual prowess and brush with the porn industry.

And one – who verbally proclaimed herself as “crazy” and talked about having to go to the bathroom as soon as she dropped us off – actually scared us.

But as a guy who loves stories, Uber is the way to get around for us if we don’t want to drive.

Our trip could have easily been cut short just a couple days in as we were headed from our Airbnb to Haydee’s restaurant, for her first gig of the mini tour. Kirsti was anxious and I was making light, trying to set her at ease on the 10-minute ride to the venue when a car pulled out to get around a stopped car in the other lane and was heading right for us. Our driver skillfully swerved hard to the right on a city street with limited space and somehow missed the oncoming car and the cars parked to the right of us.

I’m talking millimeters! 

I have been t-boned on the driver’s side door before, so I know what a pretty significant accident feels like and I have no idea how we didn’t hit head-on. But kudos to him for not stopping our trip short.

Our “crazy” Nashville driver was perhaps even scarier than the near-death experience, though. It got off to a bizarre start when this 60-ish-year-old woman drove past our driveway and was backing up on the street and didn’t see us standing next to the car. Her passenger window was down and when I spoke, I clearly startled her. So, she might have been a little on edge, I guess, but what transpired in the next 15 minutes was simply bizarre.

First of all, she drove her Kia Soul really fast, taking corners like she was in a go-kart. She also had a fair amount of road rage, yelling at other cars calling the drivers “stupid” and saying “I ain’t got time for stupid.”

And I can’t recall the exact context, but at one point she literally was basically yelling out “I’m crazy,” perhaps jokingly, perhaps not. She also would revert to a whiny, high-pitched baby talk at times and told stories about her ill husband.

When we got into Nashville, it got weirder.

As we drove up next to one of those horse-drawn carriages, she started bellowing out in that baby voice “Hi hoooooooisyyyyy!! Hi hoooooisyyyy.” Kirsti and I were wide-eyed and ready to get out. At the next stoplight, we told her this spot was good and we fled, in need of a cocktail to forget the ride.

To this day I can imitate her “Hi hoooooissyyy” and it drives Kirsti crazy and actually makes her mad, so I use it sparingly.

Our second-night ride to Nashville wasn’t quite as odd, but sketchy too. A rough-around-the-edges 40-something-year-old man was eager to talk about his alcoholic past and just left us uneasy.

But as memorable as those two rides were, I think our driver in Santa Fe made for the most awkward Uber drive – with my daughter. I’m not sure if this guy misread us as an older sugar daddy with a pretty young girlfriend or wife or whatever, but seconds into the ride, he was telling cringe-worthy stories to us and I wasn’t sure what to do. 

I often make small talk with Uber drivers and Airbnb hosts, and well, anyone for that matter. I love to chat with people and get their stories, but sometimes that backfires – like this time when I asked him what it was like being an Uber driver.

Bad move.

Floodgates opened.

We would soon be told of a past airport Uber trip to pick up what appeared to be influential businessmen. Their small talk led to the revelation that they were in the porn industry and were having a barbecue and that he should come.

Not one to pass up something like that, he said, he went, and while eating a burger talking with industry officials, he jokingly asked if they needed anyone in the industry with his slightly portly build.

He said he was joking, but ironically enough, they did!

I know, right?

Go figure.

But they told him he’d have to be well-endowed – of course.

That’s when we learned how big he was and that after he finished his hamburger, he showed them.

Before he could catch his breath, or I could change the subject, it was on to another story of driving gorgeous guys, “because I go both ways.” And then it was a story about his sexcapades with older cougars. I almost wish I had recorded the conversation, but I was too stunned to even think of it.     

Arriving at the restaurant, we eagerly hopped out feeling as though we needed to wash our ears – and the rest of us too.

Can’t make this stuff up.

But there were really good Uber drivers too, like the aforementioned William in Philly and two separate drivers in Nashville who got us home both nights. One was a mother with two girls who was fun to chat with and interested in our story and the next night was a guy who got laid off from Walmart, bought a camera and started taking photos for his make-up artist wife and was now landing other photography gigs. He wanted to start a food truck too. They were two, nice, normal folks giving us normal rides home – and we needed that!