san francisco

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.



You see, since Jesus retired, Tony’s been pulling double-duty in also writing the schedule. And every year around this time, there’s been a dance I’ve had to do with management.


Thursday Rain, fog and drizzle fill the predawn San Francisco streets… and the mind of one driver rolling Citizen’s Cab #26. I’ve been empty for an hour and a half now, as…


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.


A San Francisco cabbie has to make the decision whether to get up butt ass early to gamble on some prodigal son heading to the airport trying to make it home to L.A. in time for the festivities, or sleep in.


Detour Passengers, I’m down with the flu, folks. And there’s been a cold rain and grey clouds hovering over San Francisco in recent days – both figuratively and literally. So, your driver…


Eh, if I’m gonna be up, I might as well work. Despite its 4:15 medallion, I suspect my beautiful Prius, Citizen’s Cab #26, will be at the lot waiting idle and lonely for its driver. Me.


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…


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


Tuesday 4:00am: “Bloooop… Bloooop… Bloooop… Bloooop…” My generic iPhone Harp alarm-tone eases me into the day. (Well, sorta.) You see, I set my alarm forty-five minutes early this morning, on account of…


It’s 5:45 in the a.m. and I’m rolling the Castro of San Francisco, in Citizen’s Cab 2976, my eyes peeled for flags the likes of late night stragglers, and early morning Mexicans headed across town to their dish washing jobs.



Rolling up on a dark, quiet, residential 463 Eureka, I witness what looks like the soft glow of a taxi top-light, slowly coming into focus… It is a taxi top-light. And it’s attached to another taxi. One that’s waiting right in front of my order.


Barnes, “No, sir. I’m a Christian. Marijuana is not allowed. I have a prescription for Oxycontin, which I need to re-up.” Barnes continues, “What with all of my ailments, my REAL problem is where I live. It messes with my head.