One night this past July, I requested a Lyft from a dive bar at closing time, which was four in the morning—our city stays up late. I was with some of my friends at an outside table who were also waiting for drivers. I live in an obscure part of town so I was taking my ride alone. Some guy I didn't know, but who seemed like a potential peer, was sitting next to me at our table watching me request the ride on my phone. He seemed very concerned, almost paranoid about me getting home safely, which I just chocked up to my obvious inebriation.
The driver arrived almost immediately after I hit request. In fact, my thumb barely lifted from the ‘request’ button before the driver was matched and less than a minute away. In hindsight, I would find this quite odd. The bar is located in an uneventful neighborhood with no other bars or restaurants around it, only residences. Why was there a driver rooming around this area at four o’clock in the morning? It wasn't even a weekend night. At the time however, I didn't think anything of it. I was tired and done being social. I just wanted to go home, reheat some pizza from earlier and binge watch Chills' youtube channel until dawn and I could go to sleep.
I started to walk to the car after I quickly glanced down to see that it matched the car description on my phone. The car also sported the characteristic 'Lyft' dash light. I opened the door and pulled myself in which took much more effort than it should have. I must be more drunk than I thought. Maybe I should just hit the hay when I get home.
I had just closed the door of the car when I heard someone violently banging at my window and trying to open the door. What do you do after you get in the car of a stranger and someone starts banging on your door and screaming for you to come out? You either freeze or act I suppose.
I instinctually opened the door and two manly hands grabbed me aggressively, pulled me out of the vehicle and pushed me away from it. This made me very dizzy but I stabilized my head and my vision quickly reformed the scene occurring in the street. The paranoid man that was at our table was now halfway in the Lyft car himself yelling at the driver shouting, ‘What’s your ID?’ ‘What’s your ID?’ Then I just heard unrecognizable mumbles from the driver followed by the man’s unrecognizable shouts. I think I was blacking out a little bit here.
All of a sudden the driver sped off in an attempt to fling the man out of his car and make a getaway. This all happened too fast for anyone to get his license plate number. My friend Rachel ran up to hug me tight in angst as she confirmed the reality of what just happened by her fussing. She was a comfort for my state of shock and brought me back to a rational mindset. It was then that I looked at my Lyft app which still stated the driver was here waiting for me, however, the image of the driver was that of an older Eastern European looking man, like Greek or Ukrainian or something. I didn’t know how I hadn't noticed before. The man in the Lyft car that I got into was black and was much younger. I looked at Rachel and said ‘that wasn’t my Lyft driver.’
The man was now helping us both to our feet and apologized repeatedly for knocking me to the ground in the struggle. I said, ‘you just saved me, how did you know? What did he say to you?’
‘I used to work for Lyft and I asked him what his work ID was. He didn't speak english or at least pretended not to.’ That explains why he became frustrated and started yelling at the driver quite aggressively. I still think that was a rash decision on his part. If this driver was out to abduct or rob me then it’s safe to assume he had a weapon ready. Regardless, I was exceedingly grateful for this stranger who risked his safety to deliver me from harm. The bartender, who knows us all personally, opened the doors in light of all the commotion, offered to make us all coffee and said we could stay on the couches upstairs until we were sober enough to drive. The man denied, stating he had to be going and left immediately without telling us his name. I never saw him again.
The next day I called the police and explained to them what happened. They said they couldn't do anything without a license plate number but would contact Lyft for leads. They suggested I called Lyft as well and report a claim with them myself. When I spoke to a Lyft representative she pulled up my history and claimed that there was no such record of my request on the app. A strange feeling of electricity surged though my body as I was frantically searching through my recent Lyft rides. There was no evidence to be found. The nerves only snowballed inside me as my imagination was taking me through all the possible scenarios of what was happening or what could have happened. Was my app somehow hacked? If so what else could they find and what else could they hack? Was I being watched or stalked? What did they want? And who were they?
I then checked my bank account to see if I was charged anything. If you don’t show up for your ride, you can be charged a cancellation fee automatically, but there was no cancellation charge or any other unknown charge on my statement. I was honestly so baffled and distressed by the whole ordeal. I could've seriously become victim to some awful misfortune if it hadn't been for the man who saved me… Huh! The man who saved me! Who was he? How did he know I was going to encounter such a dangerous situation? He said he used to worked for Lyft. Was he a mere driver for them? Or did he hold a position in the company that was a little more unconventional?
At a loss for answers, I called Rachel and asked her who that guy was. She said she had no idea. Neither did the bartender, the bouncer, or any of my friends who were at the table with us. Again, this is a small dive bar with a small social following, in which usually only regulars reside so late on a weeknight. When I questioned the last girl that I recalled was at that table, my friend Amanda, she said she didn’t know who he was either, but she was looking through photos of the night and that there was one I had to see for myself. I thought her tone odd and solemn as she told me she just sent it my way. I opened the message and there, in the background of a picture she took of Rachel and I laughing and aloof, the man was standing behind my right shoulder, looking down on me.
****
This story is completely true up to the part where the bartender opened the doors. Instead, after helping us up, the guy introduced himself and Rachel (that’s not her real name) recognized him as someone she went to high school with and we trusted him to drive us each home. I know I should have been wary of getting into a car with this man who was at least strange to me right after this incident but he seemed sincerely generous and almost gallant once the paranoia subsided.
This was a very strange and awakening experience for me. And although he isn't a mysterious guardian angel, I can’t help but think something else was up about him. I mean, who is sober at four o’clock in the morning at a local dive bar? And why was he so aggressive with this driver who was clearly dangerous? And more importantly, how did he know to be wary of my driver? As I recall, there were other people around us requesting rides at the same time I was, but he was only concerned and paranoid about my ride, even before had I requested it.
Just one more mystery of this whole thing that’s leaving me absolutely unsettled is who was the Eastern European man that my app identified to be my driver? Was it simply a fake driver profile with a fake photo and a fake name or did this man actually exist?
And if he does exist, is he okay?
I watched and enjoyed your video on scary Uber stories and figured that my story would be a nice addition to a future list of yours. I fabricated some details to make the story more fit for the horror lore. Hope you find it alluring enough to use. I only made this reddit account so I could submit a story to you so don’t be alarmed if you see nothing on my account. Keep up the awesome work on your channel and music videos.
Your fan,
Kelly