Dear Creepy Lyft Driver,

I should have cancelled the ride the moment I saw your picture pop up on the app, but it was late, and I needed to get my girls back to the train station so we could go home. I should not have rated you as high as I did, but I thought I was just being paranoid, and ruining your ratings was not a nice thing to do. However, I should have done both of those things. I should have made one of the boys switch with one of the girls in my group so that at least there would be some semi-intimidating male presence in the car with us. But I did not.

The music in your car was too loud, the panel on the door that I was clutching came away from the door itself, you wore gloves, and you all too enthusiastically tossed candy to my girls-- but only two of them. There were six of us in the car total. I could already feel your eyes on the smallest member of our group, and on my friend in a beautiful vintage kimono. It was predatory, and I was tracking our route the entire ride back to the train station. When it was time to get out, one of our girls was stuck, she had jammed her seat buckle into the wrong place. It also happened to be the girl in the vintage kimono. You were too eager when you tried to help her out of it, when you couldn’t. I was starting to panic. All the other girls were out of the car already, huddled behind me. You kept wanting to try wrenching my friend free, but neither of us were having any of that. I pulled her free myself, then inspected the car for anything we could have left behind. We thanked you, and ran off to the station as quickly as possible.

Once inside, I asked who had gotten candy. It predictably turned out to be the girls you would probably deem the easiest targets. I had to make sure none of them ate it, and they didn’t. I knew they knew better than that, but they shouldn’t have had to. Your candy, Mr. Creepy Lyft Driver, felt powdery on the wrapper, which was probably a result of you handing it to them while you had motocross gloves on. However, I was not taking any chances. I made the girls sanitize their hands. I made sure that they knew they should never eat candy like that. Especially our youngest group member, who most likely would have eaten it because no one had taught her the dangers yet. No one had taught her not to trust people like you. As the oldest member of the group, and also the president of the club whose outing this was, I was already ingrained with this sense of responsibility for everyone.

Mr. Creepy Lyft Driver, you are the reason I carry a knife and pepper spray. You are the reason I have been taught to wield my keys between my knuckles. You are the reason I took aikido instead of yoga when I needed a single credit class. People like you, who give off this vibe that at any moment we may die, are the reason that I feel unsafe in the world. I should not have to do any of these things. I should not need to warn my female friends about men like you. You, and street harassers, and even guys at our school that think who their obviously predatory behavior is acceptable-- all of you need to stop, because I would not hesitate to protect myself or my friends from someone like you. But I shouldn't have to.