Jay Keefe: Uber Confessions- Sobriety and The Three Stooges
So here we are my friends!
Welcome to my little contribution to the world.
I’m honored and humbled to be a part of such an amazing team of people.
Cali and I became friends through a mutual friend and I continue to learn from her regularly. She’s a hard-hitting, driven, brilliant, strong woman with the work ethic of an entire corporation. She’s tireless and always on the quest to help others as she continues to better herself and those around her.
And I’m lucky enough to be one of those around her.
I was given the title, “Writer and Director of Happiness” and while I adore the moniker, they may be tough shoes to fill.
But I’ll try my best.
My bio is under my name in the “About Us” section so I won’t bore you with that. But the gist of my story is that I was an active alcoholic for over twenty years and when the booze finally stopped working, I was lucky enough to have been given the gift of desperation.
I was done, so to speak.
But to be honest, I wasn’t happy as soon as I put the drink down. It took me over a year and half for the haze to disappear, and that was no one’s fault but my own. I did the work (and did it begrudgingly, at first) but when I did, I became lighter. I became happy. I never imagined I could be happy and sober at the same time, but it’s true.
I don’t take myself seriously in the least and try to find the humor (or silver lining) in almost everything. I guess that came across to Cali and she was brave enough to let me write about it.
So here goes…
I drive for Uber part-time. While I’m a personal trainer during the day, I drive around Boston a few nights a week, almost always working Friday and Saturday nights, for obvious reasons-it’s busy and drunk people need a ride home.
I’m that ride.
I recently picked up three twenty-three year olds (Mo, Larry, and Curly) from one bar and drove them two-tenths of a mile down the street to another.
“You do realize that Lincoln is around the corner, right?” I asked, as all the three of them piled in the backseat.
They laughed.
“Yeah, but it’s cold out,” Larry said. She was sitting in the middle. “We didn’t want to walk.”
She leaned forward and grabbed my bicep.
“You’re adorable,” she said. “Come to Lincoln with us.”
“I can’t. I have to drive all night.” I answered.
We were already pulling up to the bar (that’s how close it was) and the line to get in was around the corner.
“Fuck this!” Mo said. “Let’s go to Playwright. The line’s wicked long.”
I turned around and headed to the other side of South Boston.
“So…” Larry said. “Are you married?”
“Nope.”
“Have a girlfriend?”
“I’m seeing someone.”
“Are you happy with her?” Curly asked.
“Very.”
“How old is she?” Mo asked.
“40.”
“And you’re okay with that?” Larry asked.
God, their questioning was lightning quick. And a little exhausting.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” I asked. “She’s incredible on every level.”
“You’re really cute,” Larry repeated.
“Do you realize I’m twenty years older than you?”
“Wait… What?” she said. “How old are you?”
“I’m 43.”
“You are!? Ohmygod!” Mo chirped. “You’re exactly right. We’re all 23. But you look much younger.”
“Thanks. I have good genes.”
“What kind of jeans do you have?” Curly asked.
“I’m wearing Lucky’s.”
“And what do you do when you’re not Ubering?” Mo asked.
“I’m a writer. And a personal trainer.”
“WHAT!” she screeched. “Ohmygod! I’m a writer too!”
“I need a personal trainer,” Curly said, more to herself than anyone else. Her head was resting against the glass and she was staring out the window.
Mo ignored her.
“Do you have a book?” she asked.
“As a matter of fact I do.” I answered.
“What’s the name of it?” Larry cooed. She was leaning forward again, making sure to catch my eye in the rearview mirror. Her left forearm was resting against my right one, on the armrest.
I turned the radio down as I told them, and decided it’d be better to steer the car with my right hand.
Curly spoke again, this time almost a whisper.
“I wish I could write a book.”
I gazed in the rearview but she was still staring out the window.
“I think everyone has a book in them,” I said.
She turned towards me.
“You do?”
“OHMYGOD! HERE’S YOUR BOOK!” screamed Mo.
She thrust her phone in Larry’s face, forcing her to sit back.
“‘And Drink I Did’. How cool is that! It’s on Amazon! I’m buying it! I’m buying three! One for each of us!”
We were pulling up to The Playwright.
“Thank you,” I said. “That means a lot to me. Really.”
Curly opened the door.
“Remember what I said,” I said to her.
She gave me a half-smile.
Larry leaned forward again.
“You sure you don’t want to come have a drink with us?” she said.
“I’m sure. But thank you.”
Mo was the last one out.
“Thanks Uber Jay. You inspired me. When I finish my book we can exchange autographs.”
“Deal,” I said.
Getting a few young girls to their destination? Part of the job. Entertaining (and maybe inspiring) them? Awesome. And the ego boost? Priceless.
Jay Keefe
National Academy of Sports Medicine Certified Personal Trainer
Published Author of “And Drink I Did”
Amazon Link: http://amzn.to/1MBF5fo
