• These few days were slow, slow, slow. I find it funny that I have such a hard time estimating how much I’ll make beforehand. It’s almost like gambling. The only ‘sure-fire’ well-paying weekends are those with big street fairs or festivals, or huge conferences at Moscone Center.

  I get a bit more stressed when my earnings are on track to be significantly below my all-time shift average of $170 (11-hour shifts). I try to separate out those things over which I have no control, most notably that would be demand for taxicabs in the City during my shifts. But, it’s tough to do in practice.

• I was struggling to find fares on Monday morning during the usual ‘morning rush’ to work. I saw a lady urgently hailing my cab on Fillmore as I headed down the hill in Cow Hollow/Pac Heights. It turned out she was hailing for her husband who was heading to a meeting downtown.

  I really enjoy passengers that exhibit a steady and relaxed aura. Not cold, quiet people — confident and wise people comfortable with their person. This guy was one of those people.

  The first thing he said after putting on his seat-belt was, “You don’t do this full-time, do you?” I replied, “Right now, it pays my rent.” We had a good conversation.

• I picked up a radio call in the Financial District after dropping someone off downtown. The guy was in his mid-20s. He hopped in my cab and said he needed to get to Cupertino. I was a bit worried — I had never gone that far outside of the City. I didn’t do a great job with the protocol.

  I knew the general directions, but I had to call the dispatcher to get directions to the address in Cupertino. I looked up the price estimate and couldn’t believe it — a fare from SF to Cupertino is $160.* Wow.

  *(This includes a 50% surcharge for empty return trip. The ‘meter fare’ is about $100 to Cupertino. SF law says taxis charge 150% of meter fare for trips 15 miles or greater outside of the City. The additional 50% pays for the cost of the empty return trip. I know, this seems like a lot to me too. But, I did the math in my head as I was heading there and back. It is a long trip down there, as much as 2 hours round trip. It uses a lot of gas, let’s say $10 worth. So I could make $20-40/hr for 2 hours and not spend as much on gas if I stayed in the City. So that’s as much as $80 that I would make if I stayed in the City, and I would make significantly more if I had an airport run. If cabs charged pure meter for out-of-town fares, there would be no additional motivation for the increased risk of traffic problems, unknown territory, and higher chance of/penalty from a no-pay that out-of-town fares bring. Thus, without the 50% surcharge, most cab drivers would turn down out-of-town trips.)

  I warned him. He didn’t seem to happy about it, but he needed to be in Cupertino so he dealt with it.

• I was surprised how busy late Monday night (early Tuesday morning) was in the City. For some reason a lot of people went out on Monday night. But, Tuesday late morning and day was rather slow and I was getting stressed out.

  I picked up a sedan call in the Marina. A ‘sedan’ call means no vans, no SUVs. Usually elderly persons request sedans because it’s easier to get in and out of the cars.

  It turned out to be an older lady who had lived in San Francisco all her life. She was great fun. She was heading to the UC hospital from the Marina. She had to move very slowly because of a leg injury, hence the hospital trip. I always love getting older life-long San Francisco residents in my cab. I’ll quiz them all the way to our destination about what life was like in the City back in the day. I’ll also prod them about old school Muni (of course).

  Like the older guy above, she had a comfortable, steady demeanor which really calmed my nerves from the stress of the busy City traffic mixed with low cab demand. Thanks, lady.

• I picked up a dispatcher and driver for another cab company early in the morning. He had missed his Muni bus connection because the first bus driver was flirting with a passenger and didn’t leave on time. Oh, Muni. We talked a bit about the difficulty of needing to judge passengers, especially late at night, before picking them up for our safety. It is a tough and scary thing to do.
• I picked up a Mexican guy in the Tenderloin. He didn’t speak English well and asked to go to “Seventh and Mission.” I started that way and when we arrived, he said, “No, Seventh and Mission.” I realized he had meant “17th”. I didn’t mind, started the meter over, and tried out my very limited Spanish with him. I confirmed that he wanted to go to 17th and Mission. I guess I should keep taking Spanish classes.

During my shifts this week:

• I took an older lady and her daughter back from the hospital one morning. We dropped her daughter off at work first and then I took the lady to her home. When we got there she asked if she could ask a “personal question.” I said sure, no problem. She wondered if cab drivers “need” tips. She had paid one cab driver but he had refused a tip for some reason. I told her that the short answer is yes, we need tips. It’s not required but it makes a big difference in my pay. If I didn’t get any tips I wouldn’t make enough to drive a cab in the City. I’d have to find another job that pays more.
• I took a rowdy group of 6 in my van back to their hotel from the Castro. For the first few minutes they had a loud internal debate about whether or not to go to the End Up after hours club. The deciders up front voted against it so we ended up going to the hotel instead.
• The National Automobile Dealer Association held their 2008 convention in San Francisco. I had a number of convention-goer fares. Business was busy in the City, especially Monday when many people were heading to the airport to return home.
• I had one very involved conversation with a vendor heading to the convention. He had created a chat-based lead generation service for dealership websites. He had recently formed the company after working in the auto CRM industry for a number of years. It was exciting to hear his experience starting the company from scratch.
• I picked up a nice guy smoking a brown cigarette. I thought it was a clove but it turned out to be a hippie ‘natural’ cigarette. We had a nice chat about the chemical effects of alcohol, nicotene, caffeine, etc. A few days later I thought I saw him on Polk Street but didn’t know for sure. He nodded a non-committal nod as though he thought he might know me too. Afterward I thought, it’s funny, when I first started driving I invested a lot of processing thought on the people in my cab. I looked at their faces, thought a lot about our conversation, their destination, their clothes, etc. Now, I do that stuff but spend less brain ‘processing power’ on those tasks. I encounter so many people each week during my shifts that it just doesn’t make sense to commit all those faces explicitly into memory.
• I had a lot of fares from bar and restaurant workers that head out an hour or two after the City-wide 2 am bar closing time. They are fun passengers. They’ve worked on their feet for many hours and are decompressing after what was often a busy and stressful shift. They’re usually sober unlike the other passengers at that time. And they tip really well. I guess it’s a combination of having so much cash on hand after a long shift and understanding the power of a nice tip. Thanks, bar and restaurant workers.
• I picked up a transgender prostitute and her friend from the Tenderloin and took them both to their respective homes. At first I thought the friend was a customer, but he later expressed his (drunk) frustration at the apparent lack of non-transgender prostitutes in the City.
• Sometimes we’ll get radio calls for cab drivers coming to the garage. This is a perfect way to make a few extra bucks when I’m returning to the garage at the end of my shift. I picked up a driver that had been working for our company since the late 70s. He said it took him about 20 years to earn his medallion. He still loves the job. He drives one of the fleet’s few Chrysler 300C models. They get poor gas mileage but he didn’t seem to mind. The acceleration of the 340hp engine is evidently worth the extra cost of gas.
• I played around more with driving in the Financial District (City Center) during weekday business hours. The traffic is annoying, but there seemed to be plenty of street hails, especially as the lunch rush began. It was a good experience and as I learned which streets to avoid (for example, Montgomery Street with its excruciatingly long pedestrian-only traffic light cycle) I began to move around more quickly.
• A catering company worker was standing out on the street downtown with a few bags of prepared food in the Financial and needed to go an office building South of Market to drop off the goods.

  I took him down there, we had a good conversation, and then he asked me to wait. I told him that I couldn’t do that. I knew how long these things can take. It takes forever to get to the right floor, you have to hunt for the office, then you have to put the food out in the right meeting room and find whoever the right person is to sign off on the paperwork (that’s assuming that they’re present) or hunt around for someone that will accept the liability of signing the paperwork. Then you can finally come back.

  I didn’t want to wait that long. In that time I could have found another fare and been off somewhere else. But, he insisted and I was a pushover so I said okay, but I have to run the meter for time while I wait. Five minutes later he is still a no show. I started to get antsy. I had already flipped the taxi radio back on and could hear orders flying by right around me that I was missing.

  He didn’t seem like a flight risk. He didn’t seem like the types I had seen in the past that ran out on bills. Flakes are usually very, very quiet. They avoid direct eye contact and often don’t have a clear destination. He didn’t have any of these traits.

  But, I didn’t think he shared my view of time. He didn’t seem to have an accurate understanding of how long his task would take nor did he clearly understand the cost to me nor the meter cost to him for waiting that long. I decided to wait five more minutes and then cut my losses. Five minutes later he still hadn’t come down and I took off. Sorry, buddy. I guess next time I need to be more forceful about not being willing to wait. Maybe I’ll give out my cell phone number and they can call me when they’re done. That’s probably best.

Some highlights from working the past few days.

• I took an older Mexican lady to see her family and grandchildren in Daly City. She was one of the chattiest passengers I’d ever had. At first, I could barely understand her. Between her strong latin accent, a speech impediment apparently related to her age, and a strong smoker’s rasp, her speech was uniquely filtered. But, as soon as my brain started to process the filter I had no problem understanding her. We had a great time.

  She had me stop by a bakery in the Mission on the way. When she came back with the bread she insisted that I feel it through the bag. It felt like bread.

  We also got to talking about some mutual interests, especially meat. We both like meat. We talked about all the different kinds of meat we like. She likes to cook steak. Turns out, I like to cook steak too. She was taken aback to learn that the school her grandchildren attend will no longer be serving meat in school lunches. Indeed, the sky is falling.

• I took a middle aged French guy from the Outer Richmond downtown. He’s a pastry chef. He still had a thick French accent even though he has lived in the City for over 15 years. He commented on the proportions of the butt of a lady walking down the street, just like my French friends would do when I lived in Scotland. You can take the Frenchman out of France…
• I took a Dutch couple from their hotel to have breakfast on Fillmore. I was happy they were venturing out of the Fish Wharf hell and into the glorious City neighborhoods.
• I picked up 3 older Mexican guys in the Outer Mission around 3 or 4 am. They were in a great mood. We stopped by a liquor store on the way to their flat in the Tenderloin. They were in such good spirits I felt comfortable trying out some Spanish with them. They helped me learn a few words I had been wanting to learn… press the button [to open the sliding van door]! On the corner? Which street? They gave me a great tip.
• I picked up 2 hipsters in the Mission and took them back to their homes in the Haight. I knew they were hipsters because they fit various hipster stereotypes:
  • They lived in the Haight.
  • They went out to a dive bar in the Mission.
  • One had insanely detailed knowledge of guitars and vintage guitar resale values.
  • One knew how to play the Ukulele. I didn’t even know how to spell Ukulele until I consulted my trusty Goog.
  • One was speaking of his impending plan to sell all his worldly possessions and travel. The other asked how he was going to travel. The other responded, not sure about that — I’ll just see what happens.
  • One had a mustache like a cowboy, which upon further research I have now learned is called a “Wild West Moustache”. (Search for it on this page for an example.)

  I was excited to have seen such premium hipster specimens. If they were butterflies and I were a lepidopterist I would have caught them and put little pins through them and put them in a case for exhibit in a butterfly museum as being prime representatives of their species. But, alas, hipsters are not butterflies and I am no lepidopterist.

• I picked up a few younger Mexican guys, maybe in their late teens or early 20s. They had me turn up 92.7 really loud. But, then one of them started playing reggaeton music on his cell phone as loud as it would go. I offered to turn the radio down, but they wanted both. It was so strangely funny that I had a hard time not laughing out loud.
• I took 3 older Mexican ladies from the Inner Richmond down to the Mission. One of them had just been in the hospital and, I guessed, her friends had come to see her. At the end of the journey one of them said, You are Americano? Yes, I said. She said, Oooh, you have a very pretty (pressing on her cheeks). I wasn’t sure if that meant I had a pretty face or my beard was getting out of control. (It’s been a few weeks since I shaved so I’m starting to look like a mountain man.) Either way, it was a compliment of some sort. Thanks, Mexican lady. You have nice cheeks too.

I drove late in the night on New Year’s Eve. As a recent beginner in the world of cab driving, I am a ‘day driver’, low on the taxi company totem pole. I cannot drive during the lucrative hours of 5 pm to 12 am.

As such, I was very lucky to get a cab at 1 am. I waited in the garage for about an hour before my name came up.

On New Year’s Eve

• It was gangbusters busy from 1 am to 5 am. It was the busiest I’ve ever seen the City. On some streets, most notably Geary and O’Farrell between Union Square and Van Ness avenue, so many people were hailing cabs that they were almost dangerously close to through traffic. It felt as though I were weaving through a sea of people.
• I saw numerous examples showing that a shortage of taxis during peak periods brings about significantly undesired results for City residents and guests. Here are a few examples:
  • A few times I encountered people that were denied a cab one, two, or even three times when the driver realized they were heading out to the Richmond, Sunset or other far ends of the City. It is illegal for drivers to refuse fares going to any area within the City limits unless it would prohibit them from ending their shift on time.
  • A friend told me about a cab driver that insisted upon a $20 flat fare from SOMA to his home in Noe Valley. Also illegal.
  • I saw many Lincoln Towncars with license plates removed and their TCP (public passenger permit) number spray-painted over. They were picking up unscheduled orders. This is all mucho illegal.
  • I saw many out of town taxis from other Bay Area cities operating illegally. In the past some taxis from as far as Los Angeles have operated in the City!

  These things aren’t pure evil. But, they circumvent the whole point of a regulated taxi scheme: to ensure safe drivers, safe vehicles through semi-controlled markets so passengers have a reliable and secure ride home. Having an insufficient supply of taxis at peak hours is almost as bad as having an unregulated taxi scheme.

• It was a lot of fun to drive New Year’s Eve. It is an elating feeling to drop off a fare and have another jump in right away. Even as far out as the Excelsior, Richmond or Sunset I would easily get dispatched calls or find people on the street.
• For a while most revelers were going from bars or clubs to after-parties at their homes or friends’ places. It was fun to experience the City through the tales of others. I think it was more fun than if I went out and got wasted myself.
• A couple times I picked up taxi ‘exiles’ who were denied rides by other drivers since they were going out to the Richmond, Sunset, etc. I didn’t mind at all, I was happy to have a fare since I’m used to having to scrounge for the least bit in the middle of the night. They always tipped very well when I took them back out of town to their home.
• I took a couple and their friend to go back home to a friend’s place in Monterey Heights. I felt bad for the friend, he had been married for about a year but didn’t trust his wife. They got ‘separated’ in the City and I got the impression this happened more often than he liked.
• Later in the evening I was driving back to the Castro to find more fares.

  I stopped at a light on Van Ness at Market and came across a lady that looked homeless who was hailing me down — she had tattered clothes and an unkempt look. I opened the window. She wasn’t asking for money. She wanted a lift to bring her and a bunch of cardboard she found that she could sell (or, as I later found out, use for shelter). She made it very clear that she had money. I think a lot of cabbies skipped her by that night. She was moving from a weekly hotel to another but didn’t make the realization that it’d be tough to get a room tonight since everyone was in town for New Year’s. She used to be homeless but now makes a good enough wage (doing what, didn’t ask) and has a regular roof over her head.

  I took her to an alley where she used to live. She called it ‘her alley’. She was one of the only sober passengers I had all night and was a pleasant conversation maker. I got the impression she had reached a state of life acceptance of which I could only dream. She seemed happy, despite the fact that she was sleeping in an alley. I didn’t want her to pay but she strongly insisted, it seemed like a point of pride for her to pay for the trip.

  I don’t like giving money to the homeless on the streets. As a practical matter, you’d go broke if you gave money to everyone anyway, there are too many. But, some people really need help in the City. How can you tell? How do you separate the wheat from the chaff? How are you supposed to know if someone really needs help or is just putting on a show so they can buy alcohol or drugs? When is someone really in dire need or when do they just not want to work? I don’t know the answer to any of these, but if I see that lady again I’d be happy to give her a fiver.

• I took a lot of drunk people back home. If any of them were more interesting I’d write about it, but they were all kinda the same. Sometimes loud, most were polite, tipped rather well, happy to be going to bed, didn’t care what routes I took, didn’t give a crap what music I played, some weren’t in the mood to chat but some had good convos about their evenings.
• It was getting quiet around 6 am. My girlfriend called and wanted some water while I was stopped at a Safeway for a passenger to get some cigarettes. I stopped by to drop it off, but she locked herself out when she came to meet me so I thought I might finish out early. I had made enough money and it was getting near to impossible to find fares. I made about $170 over 7 hours, which worked out to about $24 per hour, significantly above my all time mean of about $18 per hour. But after 6 am I would make about $10 per hour, significantly below my mean and significantly below the per hour value of sleep. I called it a night.

• The revelers were out full swing when I started my shift at midnight. I had constant fares until 3 am.
• Unfortunately, when the well ran dry at 3 am it never filled up again. Nobody had to go to work. Everyone in town slept in until, apparently, after my shift was over.
• I took a lot of drunkies to and from other bars and their homes. It was a good time. Most of the time the drunkies are nice and tip well, but sometimes there are exceptions.
• I took a load of guys from a bar near Church and Duboce up near their apartment toward Twin Peaks. They were dicks. Choice quotes, “God, cabbie, you actually listen to this music?” “Hey, ” (to one of his friends in the cab), “do you mind if I call your girlfriend and f*** her?” Nobody laughed. Weird.
• I picked up two yuppie girls from a Broadway / Polk bar. At first they asked to go near Lombard and Scott. Then they wanted to go to the Walgreens 2 blocks away at Lombard and Divisadero. On the way they kept saying Lombard and Scott, Lombard and Scott. So, I turned on Lombard and Scott. They started yelling, “No! We want the Walgreens!” I turned the corner (literally) to reveal the Walgreens. One got out to get some waters, the other sat in the van and waited. The girl who left to get water didn’t shut the sliding door. The girl in the van said to me, “Can you close the door?” I wanted to smack her. Can I close the door? Is your arm broken? Do you have difficulties moving more than 2 feet at a time? I should have asked her to get out then, but I was too nice and I closed the door. I kept the meter running for the next 5 minutes while she proceeded to call her ‘friend’ and desperately beg him to sleep with her. It was pathetic. Choice phrases included, “I think we have a real brain connection not just physical. If you sleep with me we can prove it to be true!” “I know it’s a long drive but it’s worth it so we can make out for a few minutes while my roommate takes a shower.” When the friend got back in the car they had me go TWO BLOCKS AWAY to their house. TWO BLOCKS? You had me wait five minutes for TWO BLOCKS? They didn’t tip at all. I have a tip for you, yuppie girl, respect people around you and maybe they’ll want to sleep with you. As a public service, here is a photo so other cabbies can be careful not to pick her up in the future:
  
  So THIS is why I don’t like going out in the Marina!
• I did have some very nice drunk fares. Right after I dropped off the yuppie girls from hell, a large group of 20-something hipsters flagged down my van. They were ecstatic that they found a vancab. I took them all the way across town to the Safeway at Church and Duboce where they purchased supplies for further partying. They were so much fun I though it’d be cool to join them and ditch the rest of the shift.
• I took home a nice French guy from the City and his visiting friends. They were a kind and lively group. I always score instant brownie points with the Frenchies when I stumble out some broken français.
• I came across a big black guy going back home to Oakland after his late shift as a security guard at a Taqueria. He had a hard time getting cabs to go to Oakland. It was getting quiet so I was more than happy to help him out. We had a fun chat about his lazy roommate, the frustrations of old cars, and moving out to the City and then moving to Oakland.
• It was dead dead quiet the rest of the morning. I had maybe 5 fares between 4 am and 9 am.
• I was ready to give up and go back to the garage early with $40 by the morning’s end. But then I came across a guy in the Mission going all the way to Fisherman’s Wharf. Trying to be creative, I took an odd route, but he was nice about it and tipped well anyway. I was super-lucky and got another fare from the Wharf all the way out to the Inner Sunset. That upped my earnings to near $80. I know it’s measly, but it’s a lot better than $40.

After a disappointing shift on Monday (Christmas Eve Eve?) from midnight ’till 11, I figured Christmas Day from midnight ’till 11 would be even worse.

It turns out the Christmas Eve revelers were out in full swing. Summary after the break.

During my Christmas Eve / Christmas Day shift

• Early in the morning I took a young guy from near the Castro to Hayes Valley. He had walked for about 30 minutes until he found a convenience store that was open, so that he could get some Sprite and soup for his sick girlfriend. I was impressed and said that he’ll get plenty of ‘browny points’ for his good deed. He chuckled and added, “Hopefully I’ll get ‘head points’ instead.”
• Early in the morning I took a lot of folks to or from work. It was great to work Christmas Day and see all the people that work Christmas year after year. Some of them get double overtime, some just see it as just another day.
• Yuppie parts of town were completely dead. Nob Hill, Russian Hill, Marina, Pacific Heights all dead. Most of the bars in that area weren’t even open. Whereas most Castro and Mission bars were open, some downtown clubs were hopping, Richmond and even Outer Richmond bars were full. The yuppies completely leave town. That made me think — do a lot of the yuppies really ‘live’ in San Francisco? I think it’s an important step toward ‘living’ in a place to spend major holidays there.
• A van cab was called at a hotel downtown. When the dispatcher called the order he asked first if anybody was in line. Of course, I radioed in that I was the only van in line and could take the order. Another van driver came around the corner and jumped the line to steal the order, which, of course, was an airport run. Poop on you, evil van driver.
• I picked up a couple from the Haight and took them to the Tendernob late in the evening. The guy was quite a character, he seemed to have tried every job under the sun, including having worked for Yellow for a few months. He quit after being mugged for a second time. Yikes! I haven’t been mugged yet, knock on wood let’s hope it won’t happen anytime soon.
• Drunk people smell funny. It’s not the smell of alcohol, though. It smells like some weird chemical. I wonder if it’s something in the way the body metabolizes alcohol. This is the first time I’ve been exposed in a small area to drunk people on a regular basis while I’m completely sober.
• I took a lady home who used to work as a media buyer at an ad agency like me. She enjoyed the social atmosphere but didn’t like the work. She eventually became a social worker like my mom. Funny.
• I took a guy back to his downtown hotel from the Castro. It turns out he was visiting San Francisco for the first time from Indiana! It was fun to have a customer from my home state.

I work Sunday, Monday and Tuesday. There is no such thing as paid holidays when you’re an independent contractor driving a cab. In fact, it’s more difficult to get time off during the holidays since nobody else wants to take those undesirable shifts.

So, I ended up working Sunday, Monday (Christmas Eve) and Tuesday (Christmas) as usual.

Highlights from the shifts follow after the break.

During the holidays

• Sunday was very busy. Everyone was taking off for home. I had four separate trips to SFO.
• Whenever someone gets in the cab with luggage, especially a radio dispatched call, they’re usually going to the airport. An airport run is good, quick money — about $40. But, I always politely ask a destination anyway. When they say, “SFO,” I restrain the urge to say, “AWESOME!” Likewise, when they say, “closest BART,” I restrain the urge to say, “Fuck you! Take MUNI!” Just kidding, I’m always happy to have a fare. Ho ho ho.
• I took a guy that just smoked some weed to have breakfast with friends. Although he won’t remember much of our conversation, it was pretty funny to me. He was very excited about the breakfast.
• One of my early morning airport runs was also a guy that had just smoked some weed. The smell was so pungent I felt like bringing it up. But, I decided against it. He was flying home and, I presume, needed something to take the edge off the packed and delayed airports.
• I rescued a Spanish lady from the Mission District and took her to the next best chaotic immigrant destination: Chinatown. She didn’t feel very safe in the Mission. She shared my frustration with America’s collective inability to make plans and stick to them. (I’m talking dinner plans, not war plans or public policy.) And, she thought all her American friends were cheap. They never offer to pay for dinner. But, she said she liked me. She was a good tipper.
• I took an older guy from Pac Heights to the Castro via Divis. He was SF born and raised. I always like to chat with the SF born and raised, they seem to be a rare sight in the City, although they come out more during the holiday times. I quizzed him about his thoughts on City growth. I have strong beliefs that the City should continue to grow, especially to ease the burden of housing costs caused by a severely limited supply. I was surprised that he shared my view.
• The late Monday night bars were much busier than I had expected. Considering so many people were out of town, it was hoppin’.
• I had first scary interaction with a passenger. He was going home to West Portal. He was oddly close and super-smiley and started to touch my thigh. “Excuse me sir,” I politely said, “None of that or you’re getting out here.” ‘Here’ was a place on Upper Market where he would never have found a cab unless he called. He shrunk away as soon as I said something. He didn’t tip very well.
• Usually I can get through the midnight to 11am shift with one cup of coffee, but this Monday morning one cup wasn’t enough. I stopped to get a Red Bull at the 18th/Castro Walgreens. As soon as I got back in my cab a guy knocked on my door to go to ‘Poe’. He was pronounced it like Edgar Allen Poe. I was confused but followed his directions to turn left at 18th. It turns out he meant ‘Noe’ (pronounced No-eeee). I was thinking, it’s an odd place for an out-of-towner to be staying. He must have been staying with a friend?
• I normally hate to go downtown, especially Union Square, during the holidays because traffic is so awful. People and their SUVs search for parking garages like dogs looking for the perfect place to poop. They’re excruciatingly slow and go from garage to garage. But, Monday was so slow I was forced to do the unthinkable — I circled around Union Square and Market Street looking for fares. I found a few.
• I took a guy to work on Monday at 2nd and Mission, but I missed the turn onto 2nd from Mission as I was way too engrossed with this story on NPR. I felt really bad about it, but he tipped well. As long as I apologize for making a boo-boo, people seem to tip really well.
• Monday (Christmas Eve day) was the slowest day in my short half-year of driving a cab. I was still able to break even, but only made about $20. Compare that to $250 from the day before, thanks in large part to the airport runs.

]]> http://kfarr.com/2007/12/24/you-exchanged-presents-and-illuminated-an-evergreen-to-celebrate-the-lords-birth-i-drove-a-cab/feed/ 0 kfarr xmas cab http://kfarr.com/2007/12/18/driving-the-holidays/ http://kfarr.com/2007/12/18/driving-the-holidays/#comments Tue, 18 Dec 2007 08:00:31 +0000 kfarr http://kfarr.wordpress.com/2007/12/18/driving-the-holidays/ Continue reading →]]>

During my Sunday (day shift) and Monday (night/morning) shifts

• I took a couple Mexican guys home from the Tenderloin area to the Mission Sunday night. They were in a (drunk) chatty mood, but didn’t speak much English. I tried what little Spanish I knew and we had a fun time counting up the streets on Mission. Dieciocho… diecinueve…
• I brought some people from the Outer Mission to “Cell Space” a non-profit community center in the Mission. A few blocks later after dropping them off I was hailed by a bewildered pair of older ladies. They were having an impossible time finding the center, which is hard to distinguish from a run-down warehouse on the outside. As it was only a few blocks away, I felt bad charging them and let them have the ride for free.
• I picked up an elderly lady in the Mission on Sunday. She was going across Noe Valley to Walgreens. As soon as I started driving, she started panicking, “I need to lock my door! I need to lock my door!” I locked the doors from the driver console, but her panics didn’t subside. I stopped the car and unlocked the doors. She reopened and shut her her door, looking much calmer afterwards. I’m not sure what set her off. I guess she didn’t think her door was shut all the way? I thought it was funny, especially considering how many people don’t shut the van sliding doors all the way, only to hear the ‘door ajar’ chimes all the way to our destination. Most people don’t seem to care.
• I took a business-ey looking guy to work in the morning. I figured it’d be another trip where I listen to NPR’s Morning Edition while he’s still half asleep. This guy was different, for once. We had a great chat about our respective jobs. I also told him about the part-time video work I do. His wife called him halfway to work — he had left some syrup on the kitchen chair. Thanks, business guy, for the fun ride.
• I took a guy from one 8 hour shift to start another 8 hour shift across town in the Bayview. Bayview/Hunters Point feels very different from other parts of San Francisco. It seems like the rest of the City forgets that it exists.
• I picked up a lady in the middle of the night and took her from the Lower Haight to Hayes Valley, just a few blocks away. When we got near her destination she told me she didn’t have any cash, just an ATM card. The closest ATM was at least as far as we had come already. It wouldn’t make any sense to drive for 10 minutes for $5. She knew what she was doing, but there was no sense in getting pissed off about it. I thanked her and let her go without a fuss. Besides, what would a fuss from me look like anyway? I should have paid more attention to her nervous body language, but the whole time I was trying to figure out if she was originally a woman or man.
• I had a horrible day (in terms of earnings) on Monday. I was looking at going home with only about $60. I was feeling worn out and ready for sleep. As I headed back early to the garage and was about to jump on 280 South, a lady walks out of her apartment with luggage in hand and hails me for a quick trip to SFO. That bumped me up to $100. Thanks, lady.
• Compare the horrible Monday to an amazing Sunday. I had the second highest shift ever in my short history of driving. You just never know whether or not it’s going to be a good shift.

It’s raining tonight and I start in an hour or so. You would think that’s a good thing. We’ll see.


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This past weekend

• I worked Sunday 5am-3pm, slept from 4pm-11pm, and then worked Monday from 12am-11am.
• A group of about 6 hipsters flagged my van down in the Mission around 1am:
  • It was a friend’s 21st birthday and they got him smashed like good friends should. I took some of them back to their West Oakland house and the rest to their college style houses in Berkeley.
  • Most of them were pretty sober and they were fun companions on the long trip. It took about 45 minutes from pickup to getting back ‘on the market’ in the City.
  • One of them (drunkenly) complained about the price. But, the rest knew that an investment in a taxi at the end of the night was a necessity given BART ends early and they didn’t want to drive.
  • His complaint started me thinking about pricing. What people say about pricing is often at odds to their actions. That is, a person’s willingness to purchase a product or service is often higher than they would admit, especially with rather inelastic services such as late-night transportation. Pricing is a very difficult task.
  • When consumer says, “What a rip-off!” yet he or she STILL purchases the product or service, is it REALLY a rip-off? It must not be! Of course, we always want things cheaper. But, if you’re willing to buy the product or service, it must not be a rip-off.
• I picked up some gay guys in the Castro late Sunday night just after the bars closed. They were trying to stuff their friend in the cab for about 60 seconds until they finally realized he (she? he? I wasn’t sure.) didn’t want to party with them. It was odd. But they were all in good spirits.
• I took a nice lady and her mother from a retirement home to a doctor appointment way across the City. They had a hard time getting cabs to pick them up from the retirement home, so I gave them my mobile number and they called me directly when they needed a ride back. That was the first time I gave my number out, and it worked great!
• I took a nice German guy from downtown (near a BART station) to Golden Gate Park. He didn’t have a particular destination in mind so we talked about what would be best to see. I really enjoy talking about the City with visitors; I feel it’s a form of community service to speak against the traditional tourist brainwash and tell them about the treasure of amazing neighborhoods in the City.
• I had a lot of airport runs on Monday morning. It’s a great shift to get lots of SFO runs.
• I took a couple from their hotel in the Wharf (north side of the City) to the airport:
  • It was during the worst of the morning rush hour, so I was worried about taking the main roads to get on the interstate.
  • Columbus is a nightmare especially when it terminates to Montgomery (slow as molasses downtown), Gough and the Embarcadero are rather roundabout routes and are usually packed too. I took Leavenworth through Russian and Nob Hills and then jogged over to Hyde>8th>Brannan>280 South.
  • I often worry that the passengers think I’m “taking them for a ride” when I do this, since Leavenworth seems small and dead with stop-signs dotting each intersection. But, as far as I can figure, it’s the fastest way to cut through the City when the main streets are clogged with commuters.
  • It’s surprising how much customer service is a part of this job. Keeping a customer happy is obviously the best way to get tips. Not feeling comfortable with a selected route can really make people sour (and scared).
  • They were very happy with my route.
• I took a former lawyer to the airport and we had a great chat about choosing life paths. She didn’t end up with her current job until she was in her mid 30′s. Until then, she was on a pretty serious life search, never quite satisfied with her career. We also had a good chat about life in the UK. She shared my surprise with the severely short winter days in Scotland and how much they can affect one’s psyche.

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