And the ribbon keeps descending.
Didn’t drive Monday. I tried, hard. Real hard. But I didn’t sleep at all Sunday night. I kept tossing and turning in bed while envisioning potential road rage incidents and the possibility of plowing into some jaywalker challenging my taxi on the streets of San Francisco.
In hack news, the taxi biz has been okay this past week. Your driver scored three airports on Thursday, and was nicely busy outside of that to the tune of $245! This, as successfully avoiding the marijuana celebratory hajj on the Haight that is 420 Day.
Over the many long rides we’ve shared together, you have read much ado from your driver about his introduction to this “lively” street vocation by way of cab school, of his cab school teacher Rose, and her Ten Commandments.
As presented to you passengers on my last report, it’s a new year for your driver, with a new taxi. (Sorta.)
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.
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.
Thursday It’s my first day back in the cab from a couple days off camping down in the Santa Cruz Mountains. It was just me and my younger son, as his older…
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.
Okay… I lied about last week’s “quitting cab driving” assertion. (Sue me.) It’s just that I can’t seem to shake this martyrdom thing. Besides, surely SOMEONE out there needs a jump star……
It’s Wednesday, my day off. But, I still have some taxi business to take care of. You see, a couple weeks ago I made a doctor’s appointment with California Pacific Medical Center;…
Apparently, a politically-active firecracker we know named Tyler (works for Luxor Cab) was involved in a high speed chase around Union Square. It was with some rich kids come in from the ‘burbs of Marin
Things are chill, at present. It’s Father’s Day. The TV is off. And the boy is away at Boy Scout camp. I’m just laying around, horizontal on the couch, staring at a…
I have a theory, about why San Francisco is so… unhinged. When I lived back east, you would commonly come across a guy on the streets of the Lower East Side wearing…
Tuesday 5:15am: Crooks, the disgraced ex-cab driver who lost his A-card after getting busted committing Paratransit fraud by keeping passenger’s cards and later swiping fake rides – who has since been driving…
I’ve been binge watching the Discovery Channel’s Naked and Afraid lately, on Sundays. It’s a reality show about two strangers, a man and a woman, meeting for the first time naked on some godforsaken snake and insect-infested corner of the earth
For those of you who have expressed concern, or worry, as to my mental state over my last few reports from the road, I beg to assure you that I feel I am coming back from the brink. Backing out of a dead end alley, you might say… Of late,
I’m out in the lot and just starting to prep and sanitize ‘ol 137. I go to log-in to the tablet and come to note that it’s stuck on some half glowing black screen, with a single line of gibberish yellow lettering displayed in the lower left corner.
I’m rolling the Fillmore strip up in well-to-do Pac Heights. And I cruise by the usual suspects; cops, affluent retirees – with their Golden Retrievers, and mansion contractors
The early morning has played out dead. Not one ride. And the worry about the coffee stain has been supplanted with worry over my career.
You cut me off, HARD, as I was crossing Mission Street on MY green. But you were sure to make quick eye contact through your shiny wraparounds first. And that curl on the corner of your smug face… Was that a smirk?
I’m rolling empty in the Haight to the tune of My Old Daddy’s Got a Brand New Way to Love, which again gets me musing about Bob Valor’s tale
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.