It was a rainy Friday night, the kind where you’re grateful for any offer to avoid walking or taking the bus. My coworker, Rachel, and I had just wrapped up a long shift at the restaurant where we worked, and when she offered to give me a ride home, I accepted without hesitation. We weren’t close friends, but she was always friendly, and I figured it would be a straightforward drive. I couldn’t have guessed that “straightforward” was the last word I’d use to describe what happened next.
The Ride Starts
We climbed into her car, the windshield wipers working overtime as rain streaked down the glass. She asked how my weekend was shaping up, and we made small talk about work and our mutual dislike of the new manager. I gave her directions to my apartment, and she nodded, pulling out of the parking lot.
The First Detour
A few minutes into the ride, she took a turn that wasn’t on the route. “Oh, I just need to make a quick stop,” she said casually. I didn’t think much of it at first—maybe she needed gas or to grab something from a store. But then she kept driving further away from my neighborhood. “Where are we going?” I asked, trying to keep my voice light. “Don’t worry,” she said, smiling. “You’ll see.”
The Unexpected Stop
We pulled into the driveway of a small, dimly lit house I didn’t recognize. My stomach tightened. “I just need to pick something up from a friend,” Rachel explained. Before I could respond, she was out of the car, leaving the engine running. I watched as she knocked on the door and was greeted by a man who looked to be in his thirties. They exchanged a few words, then she disappeared inside.
The Wait
Minutes passed. The rain continued to fall, the wipers still swaying back and forth. I texted my roommate to let her know I’d be late. Fifteen minutes later, Rachel emerged, carrying a small brown bag and laughing at something the man said. She got back in the car and placed the bag on the floor. “Sorry about that,” she said breezily. “We can go now.”
The Realization
As we started driving again, I caught a faint but unmistakable smell coming from the bag—weed. I didn’t care if she smoked, but I hadn’t signed up to be part of a drug pickup. My anxiety spiked. If we got pulled over, I could get in trouble just for being in the car. “You could’ve told me what you were doing,” I said. She laughed. “Relax. It’s not a big deal.”
The Second Stop
Just when I thought we were finally heading to my place, she made another unexpected turn into a convenience store parking lot. “I need to grab snacks,” she said. I sat there, drenched in irritation and disbelief. She took her time inside, and by the time she got back in the car, almost an hour had passed since we’d left work.
Finally Home
We eventually pulled up outside my apartment. I muttered a quick “thanks” and got out, practically running to my door. My roommate was waiting for me. When I told her what had happened, she shook her head. “That’s sketchy,” she said. “Don’t get in her car again.”
The Aftermath
The following week at work, Rachel acted like nothing unusual had happened. She even offered me another ride one night, but I declined with a polite excuse. After that, I made it a point to have my own transportation or arrange a ride with someone I trusted completely.
The Lesson
That night taught me that not every favor comes without strings—or surprises. When someone offers to do something nice, it’s easy to assume their intentions are straightforward. But trust is built on transparency, and once someone shows you they can’t be upfront, you have to protect yourself.
Final Thought
A ride home should take you home, not on a detour you never asked for. Sometimes the safest path is the one you arrange for yourself.
