Kate Ryan

As an Uber driver, I have the privilege of talking to and eavesdropping on a sampling of L.A.’s finest, ranging from the clinically insane to the simply self-absorbed. As a writer, there is no end to the amount of inspiration my passengers provide.

Surviving the Apocalypse didn’t mean they couldn’t enjoy a little romance.

My tights are cutting me in half at the waist . . . just like a sausage in its casing.

She couldn’t imagine the water she sat in, the water that enveloped her body, wanted to be here.

She got too high while watching The Bachelor and had a misanthropic breakdown.

The birds abandon their posts in the pepper trees, sending tiny, oblong leaves raining to the ground.

Light some candles and use those bath salts you've been saving for a special occasion. Masturbate for 55 minutes.

One of my biggest fears is having a random stranger ask me, "how it’s going?" They might as well ask if I’d like to step into their van and get murdered.

My parents got the idea they’d send me to stay at my grandparents’ house in Florida for a week. I think my mother needed a week to herself.

LAX, on the other hand, seemed like a perfect place to pick up the latest deadly virus.