The Rodent Zone

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? Up ahead… I am suddenly caught, and drawn

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Reina de la Misión

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, yes. However, it’s not so much the years;

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At Rainbow’s End

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 hours until lunch. Tony, a.k.a. The No-go King,

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Hack Hades

For the better part of two years now, my mother and my best friend, Spermula bandmate and fellow cabbie, Christian, have been independently giving me the hard sell to “play the airport.” This, for the potential windfall that the odd

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Hollywood Lost

It’s noon, there are helicopters overhead, and traffic jams backing up Mission Street all the way to Division. It seems to be all about the left lanes feeding onto Van Ness, which I HAD planned to take before accessing the

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