Kendra tapped the overexcited smartphone mounted on her dash and shifted her idling SUV into gear. She skidded out of the lot and onto the airport terminal loop, careening over several potholes, a bit faster than was entirely healthy for the Suburban. There was little love lost between her and the vehicle; it was all she had gotten out of her divorce. Owning the lumbering thing was certainly better than making car payments, never mind how taking it away from her ex gave her an agreeable twinge of petty satisfaction. On the flip side, it reminded her rather too strongly of the disagreeable ex who had loved this automobile more than anything, including her.
So, here she was, putting it to work for her as an Uber XL. Carting passengers around exhausted and annoyed her, but it was a good way to bring in extra funds when she needed them- and, boy howdy, did she need extra funds this month. Unexpected dental work, she mused, was the absolute worst: unpleasant, expensive, and unavoidable.
That dental work was why she was driving what she considered the most irritating of Uber gigs: airport pickups from Newark Liberty International. Uber had offered extra incentives for drivers doing airport trips, and since what Kendra really needed right now was a big chunk of change, fast, the airport was her logical choice of passenger hunting grounds. A user whose only identification was “Caps” had just booked her to drive two passengers down the Jersey Shore- quite a ways down, in fact.
Pickups at EWR were a gigantic hassle every time, Kendra thought as she scanned Terminal B and dictated a message to “Caps” to coordinate pickup. The closest Kendra could come to where “Caps” had requested the ride was double parking two doors down. Flouting the posted signs any more than that was liable to force the cop parked at the back of the terminal to get on his megaphone and yell at the drivers, or possibly even flash his strobes if he were having an especially cranky night.
“Weird. Wonder what that’s all about,” Kendra muttered as she scanned the crowd for her riders. A dense group of people was slowly migrating down the sidewalk towards her; most had their phones out, taking pictures and videos of the striking woman in their midst. A humongous faux fur jacket in leopard print, wide designer sunglasses, heels a mile high, and a truly unmistakable, edgy hairdo… “Shit, that’s Capella!” Kendra realized. “Wait-…” she glanced to her phone, which displayed “Caps” as the rider she was picking up. “No. Yes? What?!”
Kendra’s suspicions were confirmed momentarily. The man at the star’s elbow scanned the QR code stuck to the Suburban’s window with his phone, opened the door, and firmly pushed back the crowd so Capella could climb in, blowing kisses and calling back at her fans, “I love you, too!!!” It was an impressive acrobatic feat, but she accomplished it gracefully: besides the high heels, there was the dangerously short and tight miniskirt that was almost as much a part of Capella’s signature look as her hair. A second after she was inside, her companion jumped into the empty seat beside her and slung the luggage he toted into the back. “Hey there. May wanna get moving before they’re all in front of the car and blocking you in,” he waved at Kendra in her rearview mirror and advised pragmatically. Capella had already rolled down her window and started squeezing hands and scribbling autographs.
“Oh, yeah. ‘Course,” Kendra agreed, thoroughly nonplussed, but doing as instructed. Superstars had limos, or at least booked fancy Uber Black cars… right?
“Hi, honey. How are you? Thanks a million. Isn’t this exciting? I’ve never taken an Uber before! Woohooo! No champagne back here, huh. Damn. Oh, we’re okay, I’ve still got those cute itty bitty bottles from the plane! This is fantastic. I feel like a normal person. It’s thrilling and I love it! I’m Capella. What’s your name? Tell me everything about you, darling!”
Kendra had successfully merged onto I-78 before Capella’s effervescent introduction was complete. She felt out of breath just from listening, but Capella had not missed a beat and had her phone out, long nails clacking the screen as she already began to update her social media. (It came as a bit of a shock to learn that the star actually curated her own accounts.) Kendra was not quite sure how to interact with an A-lister riding in her backseat, so she settled for a bright smile, kept her eyes on the road, and said, “I’m Kendra. It’s honestly really great to meet you.”
“And I’m Paolo Sadatoni- I’m Cap’s manager. Thanks for being so chill about this. We kind of got our wires crossed on transit for this trip,” he explained with a grimace that was clearly directed at Capella.
“And I told you we could just catch a regular Uber like everybody else does, no big deal, sweetie, you worry too much. Kendra the Uber driver! That just sounds so romantic….”
It was a bit of a surreal drive down the Garden State Parkway for Kendra, though not unpleasantly so, by any means. Capella’s personality was every bit as bubbly and hyperactive as it appeared in interviews. She seemed physically incapable of sitting still or doing fewer than three things at once; Kendra quickly decided to not even try to get the star to buckle up. Paolo, in contrast, sat placidly in place, seat belt on, as he texted, took care of business calls, and occasionally engaged Kendra in polite conversation- except, that is, when Capella’s antics became too exuberant and demanded his attention.
Capella chattered animatedly for most of the ride, either with Kendra, on Instagram Live, or over FaceTime. She somehow managed to dance out a TikTok in the back seat, which required a remarkable amount of flexibility. The click of her nails on her phone was a constant background noise. She ransacked her luggage a little past Exit 110 (leaving a fussing Paolo to repack the items she flung indiscriminately around the Suburban, including a pair of panties that got caught in Kendra’s hair). She touched up her makeup, and Kendra got the impression she would be vacuuming glitter and purple eyeshadow out of the Suburban for days. Capella extracted bottle after bottle from her jacket pockets and stylish clutch, tossing them back with gusto; she tumbled into the front passenger seat and offered one to Kendra, which the Uber driver politely declined. Capella cranked up the radio and climbed back, squeaking with delight when she noticed the sunroof. Kendra rolled it open for her and could not help grinning at the childlike delight with which she flung her arms out into the air, singing along with the pop anthem blaring from the radio. It was less like having a superstar as a passenger, and more like a happy, bouncing puppy. The world had always been Capella’s oyster, and her outlook on life was consequently one of unbridled enthusiasm and expectation- it was surprisingly contagious, albeit rather exhausting.
Their destination turned out to be a sprawling mansion on what, for the Jersey Shore, was a sinfully large swathe of beachfront property. The estate was lit up like a Christmas tree, with the party spanning from the house to the two pools to the beach, from what Kendra could see from the long driveway. Capella bounded out of the SUV the minute Kendra braked, surprisingly stable given her heels and unrelenting alcohol consumption.
Her manager leaned into the front, his elbows on either seat, thumbs flying across his phone. Kendra obligingly dictated the contact information he requested. “All right. Cap’s going to want to get to her digs in Manhattan, at some point. Couldn’t begin to tell you what time that’ll be. E-sign the NDA, take the Venmo, and accept my undying gratitude?”
“Uh, well-“ Kendra broke off as the Venmo app on her phone clambered for attention. She swallowed her protest thickly as her brain struggled to process the amount of money the manager had transferred. “Uh, I mean, yeah. Yeah. Here’s me, signing.”
“Great, you’re a doll.” The manager shimmied out of the Suburban and gestured at the approaching valets. “They’ll fill you in.” With that, he jogged up the mansion’s grand stairs, ducking around stray revelers.
***
That is how Kendra found herself kicking it with the chauffeurs of the shockingly rich and famous, her Suburban parked between a gleaming stretch limo and a bubblegum pink Lambo. They were surprisingly friendly, helping her locate the staff amenities, proudly showing her around the cars, and introducing her to their preferred pastime as they waited (namely, scrolling through social media for the latest on what their employers were doing at the party). Kendra was assured this was a particularly wild night, and that none of them really understood what the gigantic cornucopia in many of the posts was for, either. All in all, Kendra was having an awfully good night.
Two hours later, a very flustered Paolo appeared at her side, out of breath, with what she at first thought was a fur coat in his arms. “Hey, Kendra. So this is a thing. Can you look after it for a while?” he pleaded, thrusting his burden at her.
Kendra wrapped her arms around it instinctively, but nearly dropped it when it squirmed and bleated. “What the hell? This is a freaking goat, man!” she protested.
“Look,” Paolo covered half his face with one hand, while the other swept through an arc that was equal parts supplication and finality, “when the person who gave Caps this goat, gives you a goat, you just take the damn goat. And shut up. Okay?” He immediately looked slightly embarrassed by his outburst, took out his phone, and began simultaneously typing and apologizing. “Sorry. Another Venmo, right? I have to get back in there and keep an eye on Capella. It’s freaking insane.”
***
That is how Kendra wound up outside a mansion down the Jersey Shore at 3:00 A.M. on a Saturday, sitting on the back bumper of her Suburban, holding a nanny goat wrapped in the blanket from her emergency kit. “Let me guess,” she smiled tiredly at the driver who leaned against the limo beside her, smoking while he scrolled through his phone. “This is just Tuesday on the job for you guys.”
He laughed. “I mean, yes, but I have to say goatherding is a new one, even on me. Carrots?” He picked up his paper plate from the limo’s roof and offered it to her.
The goat was very tame, and, to Kendra’s surprise, rather adorable, especially nibbling a carrot from her hand. Kendra held the goat a bit tighter, not sorry to have it keeping her warm against the chilly ocean breeze. “Well, I couldn’t decide if I wanted to do Uber or a nanny gig to make some extra money on a side hustle. Looks like I got’em both,” she soliloquized with a laugh and a shake of her head.