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The air is chilly on this early, quiet San Francisco morn. The seasonal cold wet blast which creeps annually down from the north has officially arrived.



It’s an old black gentleman, with clean, pressed blue jeans, a pressed khaki jacket, and a stiff, clean Army Vet baseball cap. He’s waving his cane slow and casual, as standing beside a pressed reusable plastic bag, and a nice tan leather shoulder bag.


I grab my girl’s key and 3:45 medallion from the pegboard myself – Prius #26, as Tony is busy by the register sliding another key and medallion under the bullet-proof glass, through the metal tray, to some newbie driver who’s standing outside the window.


Howard Phillips Lovecraft (1890–1937), author, scholar, and connoisseur of weird fiction is renowned now, but his fame is entirely posthumous. During his lifetime, he languished in obscurity, only published in pulp magazines…


Well, Alex has been a good boy. He’s been consistently rolling into the Citizen’s Cab lot around 4:15am, and bringing it back just before 26’s 3:45pm pumpkin time. And it seems the shoe fits. Alex is making a living.



Rolling up Fillmore into well off Pac Heights, I’m stopped at a red at California. And with my little eye, I spy out of the corner of it, a twenty-something blonde woman in blue scrubs kitty-corner from me running towards the intersection, and desperately waving to flag.


It’s 4:15am, and Alex has been a good boy. Yes, your driver’s been going into work earlier, and staying out later, milking Citizen Cab 26’s 3:45 medallion for all that she is…


3:15am: “BbbBllllOOOOooPPp… BbbBllllOOOOooPPp… BbbBlllOOOooPPp…” My generic iPhone alarm goes off, waking me for the 3:45 medallion I am now rocking, and my “day” shift in Citizen’s Cab 26. This means that I…



Friends and readers, I am happy to report to you this week that it is a bea-U-tiful, if not foggy, time in ‘ol SaN fRanCiscO! Come! And tour The Golden City with…


It was my understanding when someone has finalized their decision to commit suicide they obtain a kind of euphoria about the conclusion they have made. The heavy baggage that magnetizes to us during the journey we call life magically falls to the wayside.


I am out hacking the streets of San Francisco early, again. Something woke me up. A mental vortex emanating from my previous cab shift.




Already, I have left the house five minutes late. And this is NOT trivial, folks. This has SERIOUS implications with respect to the numbers of Audis and BMWs that I will be contending with in the battle for Gough!