Story Time: My Lyft Driver Was An Incel
We are cooked.
Welcome to Cheaper Than Therapy, a newsletter by Shani Silver.
As tempting as it is to tell you this story with nothing more than a loud, extended scream, let me describe the Lyft ride that firmly illustrated how irreparably gone men within incel culture truly are. I needed to go to Trader Joe’s. I’d been putting off a grocery store run in an attempt to clean out my freezer and pantry, an exercise in using whatcha got that I practice all the time to avoid waste. Eventually however, I have to shop. I don’t drive, so I called a Lyft.
I get in and we exchange pleasantries, a brief discussion of the gorgeous weather ensued, as it usually does when New Orleans gets a nice day. We’re all so seasoned by the summer heat to fear our own climate, it seems a pity to let a comfortable temperature go by unpraised.
Reader: I don’t remember how or why the conversation shifted, but this man, who is in his 50s, told me that he’s currently interning with a day-trader who has 15 million dollars in his bank account. Let’s call the day-trader Paul. Within seconds, it was clear to me that my Lyft driver worshipped Paul. He repeated Paul’s name and his teachings for the duration of the ride. I recoiled in the backseat in horror as my Lyft driver, who refused to move faster than 20mph thus extending the experience to an unnatural length, detailed for me how baffled he is that the “females” Paul tries to date “don’t even know how he could change their life.” Any time you hear the word “females” you know you’re in for an experience that’s going to make your skin crawl.
If you’re curious, yes: Paul is still single. I think I know why.