san francisco

Noon, I’m cruising Union Street in Cow Hollow, though I don’t know why. This quaint, tree lined strip of boutique shops and cafes in the shadow of the Golden Gate has long…


Hello Disinfo-ers, I have an oldie but goodie for you this week. Meet, Nam… ___ Tuesday 4:20am: “Bloo-DoDo-Bloo-DingDing… Bloo-DoDo-Bloo-DingDing… Bloo-DoDo-Bloo-DingDing…” I changed my iPhone alarm-tone to the generic Apple-supplied Harp one. I…



It’s that time of year… The annual J.P. Morgan Healthcare Conference, where suits from around the world to converge on San Francisco to schmooze, darting between Union Square’s bustling cafe’s and hotel…



Traditionally, the week after Christmas is dead for the hack. (Okay, so is the week before Christmas.) A funny way to celebrate the hope of new life, if you ask me. Still,…




Passengers, I have a confession to make… Until a few weeks ago, I’d been living a double life here in San Francisco. A secret life that I have kept from you, and…


Friday Last night was a hot night, literally. I slept with all the windows open in my flat. (Though, you shouldn’t take the word “slept” too literally.) I’m still grappling with the…






It’s Monday. The Citizen’s Cab lot’s amber lamps are off for some random reason. And it is dark, but for the light of an almost full moon bouncing off the yellow roofs…



It’s Monday, San Francisco overcast and quiet. I’m pulled over in Citizen’s Cab #1015 at the side of the road on Haight, at Ashbury. It’s after the morning rush hour, but The…


Thursday High noon: I’m rolling Citizen’s Cab 1015 west up Market, approaching San Francisco’s Westfield Mall – flush at this hour with international tourists and suburbanites of means. Hey. What is that?…


This summer’s borne out all hot or cold, business-wise. And it’s been wearing on me. Increasingly. It’s late in my Friday day shift now, on a cold one. I’m currently rolling west…


Non Sequitur Intro of the Week:  It’s 4:56am, Monday morning and I’m rolling Mission Street south in my aging yellow Prius – Citizen’s Cab 1015; to be emphasized, with green checkers. Aging,…


It’s Monday, around 10am. The dead time for taxi driving in San Francisco, or most places I would guess. Everyone’s settled in their cubicle now, filling out spreadsheets and counting down the…



It’s 4:10 in the A.M., and I’m rolling the Gough gauntlet in my van towards the Citizen’s Cab lot. But this three lane thoroughfare all downhill to the highway, with its timed lights, is proving no gauntlet on this early Monday morning.



It’s a new year. And Citizen’s Cab #26 is no more. Her medallion holder jumped ship over to DeSoto. And the mechanics magically transformed Citizen’s Cab #26, my trusty ‘ol Prius, into Citizen’s Cab #1015.