Graveyards Aren't So Scary in the Morning

"Get Me From The Church on Time"


Ubering is my new passion.  I will write a story on how the Uber thing came to pass another time but for now I have been meaning to share some stories about rides that I have been giving.  On this particular Sunday morning, I received an early morning call to a freeway intersection with a local popular street.  I first responded to the trucking company that has a rather large yard there.  I frequently pick up truck drivers that are having their trucks repaired and take them to a local hotel for a day or two.  Alas, no truck driver this particular morning. 

Finally, I called my perspective passenger. Josh answered. I told him that I'm having a little trouble locating him.  He reiterated that he is at the intersection and added that he is in the graveyard of the church at that intersection.  I ask him to stay on the phone with me as I am only a minute away.  As I crested the hill I saw Josh .... and he truly was wandering about the graveyard with his cell phone pressed against his ear, explaining to me that he is trying to figure a way out of the graveyard.  You see, the church is not being used at the present time, the driveways are all gated and the graveyard has a wall around it.  Relieved to see me,  Josh, a good-looking young man of about twenty-six years, six feet tall, well-dressed but otherwise looking like something the proverbial cat dragged in, approached the wall to be rescued. 

I digress:  You see in police work, we had a term for folks like Josh; they were called Leftovers. It's not necessarily a derogatory description, but it can be.  It basically means something went terribly wrong in the wee hours of the morning and they are, at daylight, till rescue, wandering amongst us.  I use the term wander because if you have ever seen a person coming off an alcohol induced Good Time .... well, they don't exactly stride. It's more of a calculated shuffle. In Josh's case, it resembled "Get Me From The Church on Time".  

Josh finally scales the wall and his escape from the graveyard is complete.
Once in the car,  I determine his destination.  Pleasantries are exchanged. Josh takes a couple deep breaths and sighs in a manner that indicates: Now everything is going to be fine.  

After a couple of miles in silence, I can't help myself and I ask:  "Josh, you're not the graveyard grounds keeper, are you?"  "No", he replies, "I was partying with this girl last night, we had had a few drinks and for some reason she told me to get out of her car.  She then drove off and left me.  I tried to call for an Uber but I was having a little trouble working the application. So I laid down between two tombstones and went to sleep. The sun woke me up and I called you."  "I see," I said.  

Then I noticed Josh was on the phone.  The conversation went something like this: "Hey Mom, yea, Uber Bob has me and I should be home in about fifteen minutes".  He then put his head back and rested, responding only to prompts by Uber Bob regarding directions.  There was no tip that morning, however I feel sure that Josh was very grateful to finally be home.... Apparently, it had been a long night.