Eclectic Views

    
I don't like the cabbie column in the Chronicle because the writer thinks
he's noir and hard.

Joe, will you be in front of the Castro and Kabuki theatres during the 2 big
film festivals 3/4-21 and 4/15-29? There'll be a lot of movie chat.
  

    
Great stories here, Joe.
  

    
Thank you!

I wasn't aware of the film festival. Thanks!
I get driver word-of-mouth, random tips and this:
http://www.sfvisitor.org/memberinfo/html/download/DDLive.pdf
  

    
haven't read the entire topic yet (great stuff, <static>), but just in
case I crap out before going to bed, I wanted to quickly pass on a
recommendation:  to get one of these new heat-sensitive foam cushions
(got mine at Relax the Back store):  they are miraculous in being able
to better distribute your weight and save your tush.  Worth every
penny.

as i've got older, the drive SF-LA, which used to be a walk in the
park, now causes major circulation problems, aches, etc.  Until i got
one of these cushions....
  

    
Hey Joey! Where's the report? At minimum, I need to know you're safe
and sound.
  

    
And how your butt is doing.  <g>
  

    
This is hard work. I'm bushed.

It rained yesterday, it was pretty windy too. It was tough out there
for a lot of people. The detritus from three shopping carts piloted by
the down-on-their-luck lay scattered about on Hayes street. I only saw
the carts and the tattered belongings; I don't know where the owners
were hiding. Somewhere safe, hopefully. 

People don't like the rain. When it rains, you can do no wrong as a
cab driver. The regular Muni riders take cabs on rainy days, and they
always have an excuse for me as to why they are in my cab and not on
the bus, as if they are confessing something. 

That's me, Father <static>.

To get from here to there, you pretty much have to go through some
crummy neighborhoods. I always hit the locks on my doors and hope that
I will not get flagged near Mission and Sixth, but I have to drive up
Sixth to get from here to there. It's not that the money in below
Market isn't green, it's just that there it is creepy there. If you
could see what I see, you would avoid it too. 

Someday, I will get a "bingo".

While scanning for the batshit-crazy, jaywalking homeless, I am always
listening to the dispatcher, ever hopeful. The dispatcher calls out
cross streets and those reasonably close radio back with their
positions. When you are within a block of a, you call that a "bingo"
and no other driver should mess with you. That one's yours and nobody
has a chance to get it. There are only about 100 other cabs that want
it and would cheerfully slit your throat to get it; most of the time
they are all downtown in a sort of 'Taxi Cab clot' instead of being
spread out around the City. 

I managed to be the lucky winner for a call at 301 Turk, an unusually
dark and depressing bar called "Mr. Leona's". It was just before 8:00
am. It was still raining and not quite light yet. I parked the cab and
went into the bar. Inside, there was the unmistakable smell of fresh
vomit. I collected a rather pleasant elderly gentleman who appeared to
have been in Mr. Leona's since approximately 5:59 am that morning, and
every morning preceding 
He did not personally smell like vomit. I took him to his SRO
apartment on a crummy part of Sixth street. He thanked me, tipped me
two dollars and then stumbled off to bed.

This morning I drove cab number 872, a Mercury Marquis that stank. I
think something died in that car during the night, so I drove around
with the windows open for awhile and hoped that none of the fares would
notice. If by chance they did, I would offer to take them to Mr.
Leona’s.

At about 0530 I got a call for 271 6th Street @ Folsom. When I was
awarded that call, I parroted back "271 6th Street" and then wrote it
down on a yellow legal pad so as to not forget. I was trying to write
the address  down while trying to pilot a orange Mercury through the
dark, in the rain while not hitting anyone, and I dropped my lit
cigarette into my lap. I hadn't noticed at first, but the cigarette
didn’t go out and I felt my inner thigh burning. I firmly swatted the
embers in a place that does not usually need swatting, and dropped my
notepad and manifest onto the car's floor. During the fire drill I had
stepped directly onto driver's manifest with wet feet. As it turns out,
my pen does not have waterproof ink. My daily manifest was ruined.

About this time, I forgot the address. Well, I didn't forget it
exactly, I decided that it was at 271 Folsom at 6th, instead of 271 6th
at Folsom. My ingenious new address does not exist. I radioed the
dispatcher, hoping that he would not notice that I am a doofus.

"Uh, 8-7-2 here. What was that address again?" I asked meekly.
"872...DID YOU WRITE IT DOWN?" was the reply. Oops, busted.

One more circle of the block and I found my passenger, one of the
morning bartenders at Red's (Ellis @ Mason). When we got there, he
offered me a beer.

Red's is directly behind the Hilton, so I went and sat in line there.
In the dark. No action. A homeless guy who was having trouble staying
ambulatory bounced off the parked cab in front of me. I listened to
Eric the dispatcher; I could hear that was losing patience with some of
the more clueless cab drivers. 

"Mohammad, where are you?" he called. An excellent question I thought.
I turned down the radio and went cruising. I drove down to Caltrain
and waited down there. The trains come in every half hour, so it wasn't
long before I got a $6.00 load up to the Financial District. I tried
waiting around up at the Fairmont for a bit. The view is better up
there, but I didn't win the coveted prize: an airport run, instead I
got another crummy $6.00 load downtown.

Winter is bad for the hotels, most have an occupancy rate of well
under 50% right now. One rather nice (but median priced) hotel has a 9%
occupancy rate at the moment. No hotel guests means nobody going to
the airport. Nobody going to the airport means a glum cab driver.

I drove down Clay though Chinatown (a cab driver no-no) and parked at
the Holiday Inn there. I snagged an friendly attorney going to the
Federal Courthouse on McAllister. 

I decided that I liked that hotel, so I went back to see if my luck
held out. This time I got a middle-aged Chinese woman with extremely
limited English skills. She showed me a pawn ticket for a pawnshop on
Mission; I took her there. She asked me to wait outside for five
minutes.  While I waited, I sincerely hoped that she was not robbing
the place. She eventually came out and asked to be taken to Macy's. I
had trouble understand her version of the word “Macy’s”, but eventually
figured it out. She tipped $2.00 on a $9.00 fare.

It was dead pretty much through the middle of the day. I was
meandering down Montgomery, when a young woman on the left side of the
street flagged me. I pulled across two lanes and asked her how her day
was going. Her face lit up. “You speak English!” she shrieked. She
explained that yes, she needed a cab, but we needed to wait for another
passenger, and would I terribly mind waiting around the corner in the
alley?” Then she added, “the passenger will be going to the airport” 

Music to my ears. She jumped in, we drove around the corner and she
guided me into an alley behind Wells Fargo. She told me to keep the
meter running, that she would collect the guy and bring him down.
“Don’t worry, we are paying you to wait”. I waited. As the meter topped
$10.00 just waiting, I savored the wait. The passenger came out, was
extremely pleasant, I asked him if listening to the news was OK. (he
didn’t mind) so we drove off south and listened to NPR. The fare came
to $50.

I deadheaded back to the City and resumed prowling the Financial. A
man jumped in my car and told me “Hurry! They are towing my car!” Sure
enough, four blocks away was a DPT Cushman, a tow truck and this guy’s
car. I stepped on the gas and shot through the intersections. Luckily,
the fuel-injected Mercury’s V8 really moves when asked to. I slammed on
the cabs brakes right next to the Cushman, but the hapless car was
already hooked.  “Hey! That’s my car!” he called, and they started
unhooking it. He threw me a $20 bill. I gave it back.

“But I didn’t even charge you” I said. It was true. I hadn’t even set
the meter. 
He handed me a $10 bill and said, “You’re awesome dude, you just saved
me 250 bucks!”

$10 for a four block ride is a bit high, but it is better than a trip
to City Tow. Plus, you get to be in a car chase with an awesome dude. 
  

    
You mentioned earlier spots for restrooms. Caltrain station is good
for that as well as for fares. I'm doing some temp work there, and I
often see cabs in the taxi stand with the drivcers getting out to use
the facilities.

Really enjoying this topic, Joe. You are an amazingly generous person.
  

    
Thanks Joe.
  

    

This is BY FAR the best topic on the Well right now.
  

    
I've always liked Joe's writing, and I'm glad to see it in quantity.
He's a great storyteller; that it's true just makes it better. 
  

    
Joe, give us your cell# for when we need a cab!
  

    
I just spoke with The Estimable <static>. I am going parts shopping
for his elderly Mercedes 240 D. <static> is so busy being a cabbie that
he doesn't have time for idle chit chat. 

I don't know if it is remunerative busy or just an attempt at
remuneration, but you go Joe!
  

    
I'm loving these posts, Joe.
  

    
Me too. I also think he needs to start wearing a priest costume while
driving. Hang a rosary off the rearview. While you're out Phil...
  

    
What do you want for your Mercedes?
  

    
What, you think that I carry a laptop in the cab and have wifi?

I am pretty whupped, and I made only $30 after fees. 
Trying out a different strategy tomorrow. I am not giving up just yet.
  

    
(Joe, check your email)
  

    <scribbled by static Fri 6 Feb 04 08:30>
  

    
At 5:05 am, Manny the Greek handed me the medallion, car key and a
fresh manifest through the slot, from behind the bulletproof-glass
window. I would be in car 31, a Crown Vic.

"Manny, can I have some receipts?" I asked.

He and his immense, black moustache got close to the window and
talked to me. There were no customers calling in, asking for cabs. 

He had a minute to talk.

"Receipts we got. I just wish we had some business. January, February,
March, April is slow, but this year it is a little too slow. Just one
thing: if you can make it through this slow period, you'll be one hell
of a cab driver."

My new strategy is just to keep on moving.

And moving I did: I drove 134 miles. I did this without every leaving
the City, without ever going to the airport. 

I spent the morning prowling Chestnut and upper Fillmore, taking nice
people in suits to the Financial District and then heading right back
to Chestnut. 

No parking at Caltrain, no sitting at the Transbay Terminal, no
waiting in hotel lines. Driving. 

Around lunchtime, I drove up and down Fillmore, stopping at Geary and
driving back north. In the afternoon, I brought people home from the
Financial.

I picked up a young Brazilian with a cat outside of Pets Unlimited.
No cat carrier, just a cat in his arms. A longhaired cat with sort of
walnut-colored tabby fur. 

"He's pretty docile" I said, opening the door to the topic of pet
appreciation.

"He's a good guy. But he got in a fight. That's why I had to take him
to the vet. It cost me $30 just for the medicine." 

I took him out Geary to Stanyan and up to a nice neighborhood in the
Haight. I wished him and his cat well. It *was* a nice cat.

Later, I got flagged by a woman who was chatty enough. When we got to
her destination, she apologized and told me that she would have to pay
in quarters. "No problem" I said "After all, it's legal tender."

Whereupon she dumped an armload of quarters into my hands.

I had dropped her in a bus zone, just outside a corner store. I threw
on the four-way flashers and went inside. 

"I'm a cab driver, and a woman just paid in change. Need any change?"
I asked hopefully.

"Sure, I'll buy your change" the owner replied. I dumped it out on the
counter and he started to count it. He separated a Susan B. Anthony
dollar out of the jumble and handed it to me. "See? I'm an honest
man!" We both laughed. 

He took some quarters, handed me a ten-dollar bill and gave me back
three dollars in change. Not bad for a $6.00 fare.

And even without any airport runs, I still brought home $125 in cash.
  

    
I look forward to the day someone offers to pay in Salon.com stock options.
  

    
Heh.

<And even without any airport runs, I still brought home $125 in
cash.>

Go Joe!
  

    
Hell of a contrast to $30. Sounds like movin', movin', movin' is the
thing to do.
  

    

The logic is that short rides make more (because of the drop) if you keep
the cab filled.  But if they go out to remote residential areas and you have
to return to busy spots empty, you're eating into that.

Do you get advance info on what conventions come into town, for airport
business purposes, Joe?
  

    
Yes, that is here:
http://www.sfvisitor.org/memberinfo/html/download/DDLive.pdf