Despite the allure of a San Francisco morning, this isn’t how I expected to begin my day.
Despite feeling out of synch most of the week, there was also a weird synchronicity at play.
Down at SFO, they were closing one of the three runways for 20 days to make repairs.
Some people come to the The City with more preconceived ideas than changes of clothes.
Back in the day, cab drivers were rude, refused to take people to the Avenues, and rarely showed up on time.
Naturally, many taxi customers balk at the prospect of paying more than the normal rate.
Everything hit at once last weekend. Besides Outside Lands, the Giants were…
You don’t need an independent transportation firm to know that Uber and Lyft are mucking up traffic.
Getting a long, profitable ride is such an anomaly, expecting more than straight meter and a tip seems kind of predatory.
I used to loathe the idea of waiting almost two hours or more for a fare, but over the past few weeks, the SFO holding lots have become a sanctuary from the madness.
In San Francisco, it’s always open season on taxicabs.
There was something in the air last week, and not just the glow of fireworks pulsating through the dense fog
‘Does that make me jaded?’ asks the guy in the back of my taxi
I’m rolling steady. One ride after another.
The Central Freeway is like a noose.
I’ve never been much of an airport player. I prefer to work The City.
While waiting for the light to change at Fourth and Mission with a fare going to Davies Symphony Hall, a horde of Democrats crosses the street in front of my cab.
Venturing into Fisherman’s Wharf while the sun’s still out is a fool’s errand.
Despite not wanting to set a bad example for my two-year-old by staring at a phone all day on the couch.
Given the opportunity for a do over, I never would have worked last Wednesday.
