If you are drunk and need a ride home I will be happy to oblige. Because I care about your well being and don’t want you to end up in a suburban prison with a disheveled post-bachelorett-party soccer mom with raccoon eyes. But, there are a few things you should know:
1. There is no yell-talking in the car. We’re all within two feet of each other. Inside voices please.
2. We will be listening to Sonic Youth, Mingus, or The Dead Kennedys. No exceptions.
3. Requests for other songs or artists will be ignored. Unless you ask for Bon Jovi or Lady Gaga. That will get you banned from the car and left on the sidewalk.
4. I don’t care about your martini-soaked opinions concerning the current economic environment.
5. Stops for burritos or pizza are encouraged. Stops for that fusion place in the Mission whose name you can’t remember are not.
6. I will not pick up your six other friends from Ruby Sky. If they go to Ruby Sky, they shouldn’t be your friends to begin with. (Editor’s note: Ruby Sky shut down years ago)
7. Just give your address. I have a smartphone, I’ll figure it out. Do not share with me your elaborate way to get home then forget to tell me to turn left three blocks after we’ve passed your place.
8. You puke, you just bought a complete detailing of my car and dinner for two at Little Star pizza for The Wife and I.
9. You can’t sit in the trunk. Seriously, stop asking.
If we can agree on the above, you just bought yourself a ride home with a sober driver. You lucky bastard.