Why Does My Elderly Peruvian Uber Driver Think I Want Him?


South America

See, this is why women can’t be friendly to people. I ordered an Uber last week to Caleta Dolsa, this super cute, designed-for-Instagram cafe in Lima, Peru. No shade, it literally has multiple hanging chairs, an açaí menu, they serve you food on wooden slabs, and I have told multiple Instagram stories from this location. But most importantly, they have the fluffy American-style pancakes that I will always prefer to crêpes.

My driver is this sweet old Peruvian man and he picks me up in a car that definitely wasn’t manufactured this decade or the last. But this is Peru, I’ve been in an Uber where the driver had to literally lean behind him and manually open the door to let me in.

I mean, I'm cute, I get it.

He greets me in Spanish, and as a new language learner, I take any and every opportunity to practice with locals. Y’all, he had the best reaction ever to my broken Español: PURE DELIGHT. Every time I dropped a vivo this or a quiero that he laughed and practically clapped. My ego was almost purring with the stroking it was receiving. So we’re carrying on, talking about his kids, being a grandfather, living in California, why I’m in Lima, all that. Then he mentioned that he used to play tennis professionally, and still does. 

See this is where I messed up, thinking that I could get something from a man without him wanting something in return. I jump at the opportunity to play tennis with him. I used to play all the time in the States and it’s been months since I picked up a racket. He’s all, “Oh yeah, sure girl, let’s exchange numbers!” Then we spend easily a whole other 10 minutes at my destination discussing faith, language, kids these days, you name it. (And Uber is charging me for every minute.) I reassure him that I will give him a call and finally get to my beautifully decorated carbs and maple syrup.

Honestly I'd put up with a lot more for these.

You already know he texts me almost immediately and there is no mention of tennis. He starts naming dinner spots and promising to pick me up wherever, whenever. Now, I haven’t seen a ton of black folks here in Lima, so I don’t know what kind of a woman he thought I was BUT REALLY DUDE??? Who do you think I am? I’m just trying to use you for free tennis lessons, I’m not some hussy! (More power to everyone who is a hussy – live ya best life) Okay, maybe I did spend a half second thinking about getting a free meal with a nice old man, but I’m better than that. I simply left him on read like any self-respecting woman would. Sigh. Guess this is on me for not following the unwritten rules of Uber: Get in, STFU, and hope this isn’t the time you get trafficked.

How often are you creeped out that your Uber driver now knows where you live?

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