AUDIO: Another Late Night Larry story recorded at the National barbecue … With chatter in the background from Daniel the Chef, Colin, Juneaux and myself…
So it’s Sunday night and there isn’t anybody anywhere and I pick up this couple. The guy’s in leather and the girl had a miniskirt…
“Hey, cabbie! You mind if I fuck this chick in the back of your cab?”
[photo from the National barbecue – Marty in the foreground next to the bonfire with Larry and Colin behind him]
AUDIO: Another story from Late Night Larry, recorded late one morning at the National barbecue. With chatter in the background from Juneaux, Daniel the Chef, Old Man John and myself…
“I’m coming down O’Farrell Street and I get flagged by this couple. And from the early conversation, I realize they were husband and wife. The guy says to me, ‘You know, you just look like the kind of cab driver we’ve been looking for…'”
Back in the days of the National BBQ, I recorded Late Night Larry talking about pukers in his cab … Followed by chatter, comments and stories from Colin, Juneaux and Daniel the Chef …
[photo by Trevor Johnson]
During a recent Recitation of the Waybill, a bunch of us were standing around the National office as Late Night Larry offered up some of his incontrovertible advice.
“No matter the question,” he snarled. “The answer is always yes.”
I’ve implemented many of Larry’s words of wisdom over the years, but sometimes it’s my own rules that save the day. Like that Friday night when I was inbound on Columbus at 3 a.m., waiting for the light to change at Pacific.
Behind me, the neon lights of Broadway are diffused in the fog like the setup to a Scooby-Doo mystery, while stragglers lurk in dark corners.
Just as the signal turns green, a young black guy and an older white woman approach my cab. Besides the overwhelming stench of booze that’s almost palpable, their eyes are spinning in their sockets, suggesting other intoxicants.
“Hey! You’re cute!” the woman screeches at me. “Can I touch your hair?”
Less of a request and more of a warning, I try to dodge her grasp.
“Let’s not molest the driver,” the guy says with a giggle. “Yet.”
“Uhhh … Where to?” I ask hesitantly.
“We need snacks!” the woman shouts. “Pronto!”
“Driver, do you know where we can get some snacks?” the guy asks calmly, as if his companion’s exclamation wasn’t clear enough.
I suggest Union Square. With several 24-hour diners, fast food and a 7-Eleven, it covers all the bases for late night snack options. And close enough to get this rascally duo out of my cab. Pronto.
Late Night Larry shares one of his many stories about the madness of driving a cab at night in San Francisco:
An excerpt from the zine Behind the Wheel 3: From Uber/Lyft to Taxi.
Transcribed at the weekly National barbecue.
This week’s column for the S.F. Examiner:
While I’m idling in gridlocked traffic on Third Street, trying to get my fare to the St. Francis, I read the advertisement on the wooden barricades shielding the construction at Moscone Center. The statement feels more like a threat than the typical “pardon our dust as we make improvements” disclaimer.
And yet, you can almost watch The City change before your very eyes — like the weather, when the fog rolls in on a sunny day and wraps itself around the top of the Pyramid like King Kong, or you turn a corner and the wind blows so cold you can’t even remember how it feels to be warm…
That’s what an advertisement like the one at Moscone Center seems to be saying. Or at least that’s how it feels in a cab yard, after a long shift, when we’re standing around a dormant barbeque grill trying to make sense of what’s become of the taxi industry.
“I still believe things will turn around,” Colin says.
“Something’s gotta give,” Juneaux points out.
“Ah, fuck this… We’re all doomed,” Jesse decrees as he tosses his cigarette and returns to the office.
“It does feel rather hopeless,” I admit.
“Speaking of hope,” says Late Night Larry. “Have I told you guys the one about the male hooker and the missing $100 bill?”
Read Larry’s story here.
I Drive S.F. 