The Uber Driver Chronicles: Operation Coach House – Short Story by N.J. Coleman
Living in the backyard, lying to strangers, and chasing the life you wish you had.
In The Uber Driver Chronicles: Operation Coach House, N.J. Coleman spins a brutally funny tale of small lies, big dreams, and the weird blur between who we are and who we pretend to be. Read it now on Written Tales—submissions are open for your best truth or fiction.
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So when I pick up a fare and they start to talking or I do, I kinda make up a life story that sounds really interesting. Because I'm 39 and I still live at home in my parent's coach house, which is an outdoor room in the backyard, so it's kinda like my own place. Only I have to go into their house to cook somethin' on the stove or shower or go to the bathroom.
#2, I mean.
I can pee into a bucket or even outside at night.
So last night I picked up an older couple in Soulard. That’s in St. Louis, where I live. They were on their way back to their hotel downtown, right by Busch Stadium, where the Cardinals play.
And I was tellin' 'em how I had just got back from living in Switzerland with my wife, who was a big executive for a Swiss insurance company. In Zurich, no less. I mean you can know almost nothing about Switzerland and make this shit up. People are so fuckin' gullible. Idiots.
And then I told 'em how later on I moved to a little town near the border with Germany. I was kinda sure Germany was close-by from stayin' up till all hours of the night playing Call of Duty WWII. And I made up a name that sounded kinda switzerlandish and germanish. So I said Stuffelburg, ya know, with the funny Swiss mark over the "u". I think that makes you know if it's a big "u" or a small "u" sound.
And they're eating this shit up. Asking me questions how I liked it, are the people nice. So I tell 'em that it's not like a vacation when you live there. People who go on vacation for 2 weeks rave about Europe, how everything is better than here in America. I tell 'em the vacation part ends after about a month. Then it's way worse than living here in my parent's outdoor coach house in St Louis.
Like my rent in the German border town was like 3000 Swiss francs a month, which is like 3500 U.S. dollars. When I said it, I thought that 3000 Swiss francs was an absurd amount to pay for a house in Stuffelburg with the funny mark over the "u". But then the guy said "well, for a house, that's kinda what rents are going for these days where we live, in Chicago."
OK, Mr. Hotshot Chicago guy. Who da fuck are you, Bill Gates now? Asshole.
So, as I took a turn on Lafayette Street, I also took a turn right out of the rent amount conversation. I was getting kinda frazzled here now, cuz no one had ever challenged the rent story before.
So I was in uncharted territory here and that's when I mighta went too far. Cuz I told 'em now I'm getting a divorce from my wife and that's why I moved back home to my parent's outdoor room in St Louis. But I go back frequently. Yeah right, on a uber driver's income! HA!
And the reason I go back is to see my 3 kids who are 12, 10, and 8. I mean their ages couldn't have been any more convenient to make up. I didn't even have to think about that one. It's sometimes just too easy to pull one over on these dumbfucks.
So they said that must be tough. Well, the wife said that. The guy was already starting to look at me in the rear-view mirror. And his one eyebrow was arched, kinda like the St. Louis Arch. He asked me if Stuffleburg was closer to Berlin or Munich. So now I know he caught on to me. Asshole.
Thank god we were right near where they were going, so I tried to buy some time and tapped a few times on my phone like the directions had frozen or something. I pulled over and dropped them off like a half block away from the hotel.
And then I said, "oh, I can get you closer".
And they said,"no, no, this is fine." And they got out.
And as they were walking away I saw the guy turning to his wife and saying something. And I knew my goose was cooked. So I drove away quick. "Whew".
Next time I have to exaggerate the rent a lot more. Cuz 3000 Swiss francs I thought was a staggering amount to pay monthly for rent. I mean, I don't even have to think about rent.
My parents don't charge me anything to live in their coach house.
I mean, just my dignity.
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✍️ About the Authors
NJ Coleman is a Chicago area poet and writer. He draws inspiration from everything and anything. NJ crafts poems and stories that explore a wide range of themes, from love and loss to fear and faith.
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Heh heh
Doug Hawley Mr. Mirthless