Uber Ride to Ocean City Turns into 3-Hour MoCo Trivia Hell
Alex “Mr. MoCo” Tsironis had a plan. A simple, peaceful plan: take an Uber from Montgomery County to Ocean City, open the laptop, and crank out three hours of articles before hitting the sand. But somewhere between Rockville and the Atlantic, that dream washed away in a flood of relentless Montgomery County trivia questions.
They hadn’t even passed the River Road exit when it began. “Hey,” the driver asked casually, “is it true Brookeville was the U.S. capital for a day?” Alex, balancing his laptop, gave the short version of the War of 1812 story and tried to focus on his opening sentence. “Wild. I thought the most important thing in MoCo history was when they opened a new Wawa," the driver said, looking into the rearview mirror and hoping for a smile. Alex scowled.
Silence lasted about eight minutes. As they crept up the ramp to the Chesapeake Bay Bridge, the driver struck again: “So, one-third of MoCo is farmland, right? Agricultural Reserve? How many acres?” “Ninety-three thousand,” Alex muttered, not looking up. “That’s a lotta corn,” the driver replied. “You ever write about MoCo corn?”
By the time they rolled through Easton, Alex had only typed half the opening sentence to a New and Coming Soon to Olney piece. “We’re, like, one of the most diverse places in the country, right?” the driver said. “Germantown, Gaithersburg, Silver Spring—all in the top ten?” Alex sighed. “Four of the top ten,” he said, trying to force his brain back into work mode. “Cool,” the driver said. “So where’s the best pupusa in MoCo? C’mon, you’re Mr. MoCo.”
Somewhere outside Salisbury, the trivia took a historic turn again. “Didn’t MoCo have a German POW camp during World War II? Near Rockville? One escaped, right?” Alex rubbed his temples. “Yes. Johnson’s Local Park. Can we please—” “Man,” the driver said, “you should totally do a podcast on that.”
Finally, as they crossed the bridge into Ocean City with the beach skyline in view, the driver lobbed his last question: “One more thing—what’s the deal with all those ghost Taco Bells in MoCo? Like, where do they go?” That was it. Alex snapped his laptop shut and stared out the window in silence.
At drop-off, Alex swiped to leave a tip—let’s say it wasn’t generous. The driver looked at his phone, then at Alex. “That’s… it? It won't even pay for a bucket of Thrashers.” “I thought the conversation counted,” Alex said. The driver shook his head. “Trivia doesn’t pay rent.” And with that, he peeled away, leaving Alex on the curb, three hours older, zero articles richer, taking an unplanned detour into the Purple Moose for a bracer.
