She wasn’t supposed to be alone that day.
Jennifer Aniston was in New York for a private dinner with an old friend from the industry. The plan was simple: driver picks her up from the Carlyle Hotel, takes her to SoHo House, in and out. No press, no fans, just one quiet evening before flying back to L.A.

But there was a mix-up.
A car pulled up at 5:42 p.m. Sharp. Black SUV. Right license plate. Jennifer got in, sunglasses on, phone in hand, casual smile. She didn’t notice the Uber logo on the dashboard.
And the driver — a man in his late 30s, wearing a faded Rangers cap — didn’t notice her right away either.
For the first three minutes, it was silent. Then he glanced in the mirror and blinked.
“Uh… you’re, uh—sorry, you’re Jennifer Aniston, right?”
She looked up, laughed. “I think so. Are you not with Marcus?”
“I’m… with Uber.”
They both burst out laughing.
Jennifer offered to get out immediately, but he insisted on finishing the ride. “It’s just six blocks,” he shrugged, “and I can say I drove Rachel Green through Manhattan.”
What happened in those six blocks — those 14 minutes of unexpected humanity — stayed with them both.
The driver, whose name was Luis, told her he used to watch Friends with his sister when they first came to the U.S. from Ecuador. She was 14, he was 10. She didn’t speak much English, but Phoebe and Joey made her laugh anyway. Jennifer smiled warmly, nodded, asked his sister’s name.
“Cristina,” he said. “She passed in 2019. Cancer. But… Friends was our English teacher. And our therapy.”
Jennifer stayed quiet for a second. Then, out of nowhere, she said:
“You know, when we filmed that last episode, the one with the keys on the counter… I cried the whole night. I still have the shoes I wore that day.”
Luis nodded. Then, without thinking, he said:
“She would’ve loved to hear that.”
When they reached SoHo House, Jennifer paused before getting out. She reached into her tote bag, pulled out a black Sharpie and quietly asked, “Do you have anything I can sign?”
Luis pulled off his Rangers cap. She wrote something on the inside of the brim. Folded the hat back. Then smiled.

“Tell Cristina she’s the reason I didn’t cancel today.”
Luis never shared what she wrote. But he later posted a photo of the hat with the caption:
“Some rides don’t take you across town. They take you back home.”