By Mo Macsai-Goren
Asserting his dominance over the hardworking Uber driver who picked him up from yet another long day at Deutsche Bank, area man Chris Cox refused to sit shotgun on his hour-long ride home. Citing his distain of being seen as equal to his driver, Cox flung his briefcase against the opposite side of the car before sitting and repeatedly calling the driver “buddy” or “big guy.” While Cox Ubers to and from his job as a financial strategist at Deutsche bank every single day, he has yet to sit next to the driver, even in an otherwise-full Uber Pool. According to his passenger reviews, Cox has been known to request that fellow Uber Pool passengers relocate to the front seat so he can maintain the illusion that he is in an episode of Succession. He has been known to ask the driver to close the partition despite riding primarily in PT Cruisers and Kia Sorentos. Sources close to Cox have said that he has always been terrified of being perceived as equal in status to service industry workers, despite never having worked in the industry himself. When asked why he also refuses to tip servers and drivers, Cox expressed deep concern and asked why he would give shell out more money for someone who is just “doing their job.”
By Mo Macsai-Goren
CLEVELAND – Dad’s mood shifted rapidly Wednesday night as sources inside his 1999 Toyota Sienna confirmed that he absolutely flew over that last pothole. Swearing through gritted teeth, Dad experienced a potpourri of emotions ranging from white-hot, blissful rage to rational economic concern as his minivan violently bottomed out in the middle of the street. Everyone inside the vehicle fell silent as Dad began to process his feelings with the help of his Joel Osteen audiobook.
Dad loved that car. Although it wasn’t the sleekest or sportiest model out there, it got him to work, the kids to school, and that half empty bottle of water from 2009 to every stop in between. That Toyota Sienna was a part of the family and every time he careened into a pothole, it felt as though he was punching one of his own children square in the face.
He would have to be more careful if he wanted to teach Tommy and Susana to drive in their childhood car. If the van needed repairs, he’d have to dip into the vacation fund and, while he was sorry to even think this, he would have to choose the repairs over a four day weekend in the Wisconsin Dells.
The kids kept talking. Didn’t they know that the more distracted he was, the higher the chance of going over another pothole? He knew the last one sounded expensive but to hit two in a row? On the same trip to the restaurant that was and always has been walking distance from the house? Goodbye wave pool, hello Jiffy Lube. While he didn’t mind Jiffy Lube (decent coffee), he knew the kids would much rather be at the Kalahari tropical resort in the middle of rural Wisconsin.
Dad’s Joel Osteen CD ended (disc 4 of 9) and as he momentarily shifted his glance to swap discs, the van hit a cavernous pit and shook violently. Dad knew it was the end. No more wave pool or eating chicken fingers with sopping wet, chlorinated hands. He would take the car in first thing tomorrow and restart the vacation fund as soon as possible. He fell silent as a single tear rolled down his cheek.
He had been promising to take his kids to the Dells for a year now. Unfortunately it seemed like the lord had other plans. Dad increased the volume on the Osteen CD and relaxed a bit. There was nothing he could do. It was all over.
By Mo Macsai-Goren
CLEVELAND-Tensions were high this evening as Robert Scump, father of three, finally put his foot down.
“I have had it up to here,” Scump proclaimed as his children once again entered a frivolous argument about what restaurant they were going to.
“I’m tired of this bickering and so help me god, I will pull this car over,” Scump said into the rearview mirror of his swamp colored 1998 Toyota Sienna.
Scump is known for his good-natured demeanor and ability to eat an entire Whole Foods rotisserie chicken, so this outbreak came as a surprise to everyone.
While his three children fell silent, Scump breathed a sigh of relief before claiming that there was plenty of food in the fridge.
This seemingly motivated his children, who quickly resolved their differences and decided that The Cheesecake Factory was the restaurant of choice for the evening.
This event marks Robert Scump’s third threat to pull the car over this month and fourteenth parental threat overall.
* Others include “Only thirty minutes of computer time” and “no sleepovers” but he has yet to act on any of these.
It is safe to say that as assertive as Robert may seem, he definitely will not do anything about it ever.
Scump’s children were unavailable for comment.