Help! I've Accidentally Built a Sexual Connection with My Uber Eats Driver

Can you lend me two minutes and tell me if this is weird?

I’ve got enough guilty pleasures to fill a boat.

(Filling boats is also one of my guilty pleasures). ⛵

Guilty Pleasure #426 is ordering Uber Eats on a Friday night.

After a week of hard work and severe sweating (the perspiration is unrelated to my job; I should see a doctor), it’s become my weekly tradition to pick up the phone and punch in an order of Thai food.

I’m worried this tradition *might* become problematic if I’m not careful, so can you do me a favour and let me know if this sounds weird?

I’m 94% sure it’s fine…

“69, right?”

Prakesh, my Uber Eats driver, waits for my answer.

His boldness shocks me. I don’t know what to say. The endless possibilities tease and tantalise. Is he on top? Am I on top? Like I said, endless possibilities.

“This is 69 Stanley Street, right?” he asks again, impatiently.

My cheeks glow red—a schoolboy error. I’ve foolishly misconstrued my residential address with a graphic sexual act between consenting participants. It happens to the best of us.

Admittedly, it’s been happening to me with increasing regularity since I began ordering takeaway food to celebrate the end of the working week: 76 Fridays and counting.

You’d think Prakesh would know by now that he’s at the correct address. This only makes me more certain he’s as aware of our flirtatious game as I am.

He claims it’s Uber’s policy to verify the address with the homeowner. I say it’s the type of coy flirtation that turns a spark of passion into a roaring inferno.

New World Porter is old news. It’s the era of New World Prakesh.

The Pad Kee Mao is Tasty…

Prakesh is tastier.

I’ve been working from home for four years since quitting my marketing role during COVID-19, so I don’t socialise as much as I used to.

In my past life, I was an agency copywriter until my boss called me a coward on a Zoom call without knowing I was in the virtual room. I haven’t seen that motivational tactic in any Tony Robbins seminar, but I haven’t seen a single second of any Tony Robbins seminar, so I can’t rule it out.

After quitting (and loading up my bag with as many pens as possible on the way out), I chose a new arrangement: working exclusively from home in the comfort of my pyjamas.

Without question, this new work/life balance has changed my life for the better.

The only downside I can think of is that my sole colleague is my dog, Handsome Hudson.

Don’t get me wrong—Handsome Hudson is great. The problem is that Guilty Pleasure #152 is stealing a co-worker’s lunch from the fridge, so I end up snacking on a plate of Royal Canine chicken and liver dog food (with extra marrowbone jelly).

It’s not ideal, but a free lunch is a free lunch.

Handsome Hudson sleeping on the dog, I mean, job.

I appreciate that Prakesh has become a source of comfort and human connection without the social blanket of regular co-workers.

Loneliness has reached record-breaking levels. Data from Harvard suggests that 39% of adults report “serious loneliness”. This figure spikes to 61% of adults between 18 and 25.

With worsening levels of loneliness, Prakesh takes the time to ask me how I’m feeling, and I cannot tell you what that means to me. ❤️

Admittedly, it’s more of an automated ‘How Did We Do?’ message from Uber, but my heart says that Prakesh is playing hard to get.

I’m honest, of course…

It’s an easy ☆☆☆☆☆ star order. I compliment the tasty snack at my front door… and then compliment my food. 😉

The mere mention of the word ‘Tip’ in my Uber Eats app sends me into full-body pleasure convulsions.

My telehealth doctor says the convulsions are nothing more than a dangerous combination of muscle atrophy and excess sodium. He says I might occasionally consider ordering something other than Pad Kee Mao. But he’s a doctor, not a nutritionist, so I’ll take that advice with a million grains of salt.

Is This the Start of a Beautiful Romance?

It’s hard to say.

I’m a married man, and my wife is pretty good (I wrote that word-for-word on her birthday card, and she got mad; women confuse me sometimes). But I can’t—I won’t—pretend I’m not interested in seeing where this connection takes Prakesh and me.

I still have my concerns, naturally…

Has Prakesh developed an equally electric connection on one of his other 5,739 successful deliveries?

My heart wants to believe he feels the same way about me as I do him. My head pulls me in another direction. And my stomach…well, that’s craving a steaming hot Pad Kee Mao.

Where does this budding connection go from here?

I’ll see Prakesh again on Friday night, and I’ll let you know.

If you’re a woman and don’t swoon at this message, there’s something wrong with you, not me

Today’s lesson(s) in 33 seconds…

If you want a takeaway from this story about takeaway, here are a few:

• Bad bosses are cancer. If you have one, quit. If you need time to line up something new, do that — then quit. Your life will become 600% better. Life is too short to worry what someone with low emotional maturity thinks of you.

• Few pleasures in life hit like enjoying your favourite meal. Don’t worry if it’s not the healthiest. Stay on top of your diet 90% of the time and enjoy bad shit 10% of the time, and you’ll be OK.

• Not everything you do has to be high art. I’m (probably) not going to elope with my Uber Eats guy. I only wrote this because I thought the 69 pun was funny (debatable). Strive to do your best, but swim in the mud sometimes, too. It’s dirty fun down here.

Before you go, share one of your Guilty Pleasures in the comments.

You can’t use Filling Boats (Guilty Pleasure #426) or Stealing Co-Worker Lunches (Guilty Pleasure #152) because those are mine.

But everything else is fair game.

In the meantime, have a beautiful day.

With love,

New World Porter

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