So, you’re drunk. Well, perhaps you aren’t drunk at the moment, but play along. So you’re blotto, three sheets to the wind… at this point you could be a psychotic freak and drive home, but that would be bad on many levels, karmically just for starters. Rather than putting your own life and, more importantly, other people’s lives at risk, wouldn’t you rather call somebody?
Now here’s the interesting twist. The call you make results in a struggling actor or model showing up on a foldable Di Blasi scooter. They take your keys, fold up the scooter into your trunk, and drive you home.
This is the premise of Home James, operating in LA at the moment and elsewhere soon.
Now if only they had a service whereby Audrey-Hepburn-in-Roman-Holiday-esque actresses on Vespas would deliver mish mosh soup from Canter’s….