Tag Archives: Oakland

How I Became a Self-Loathing Pandemic Hoarder

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Originally published in the S.F. Examiner on April 16, 2020.

It’s hot in the sun. In the shade, it’s cold. I can’t seem to catch a break with the weather today. Standing in line outside Trader Joe’s with 50 other people, I begin to question my resolve.

According to the sign, the wait time is approximately 30 minutes. The line stretches from the entrance around the side of the store, through the parking lot and down a residential street. It’s only gotten longer since I showed up, enviro-sacks in hand, 10 minutes ago. As we get closer, another sign informs potential shoppers that personal bags aren’t allowed anymore. Cashiers must use fresh paper sacks. For safety reasons. I survey the other people in line. Everyone is carrying reusable bags.

A dutiful lot, we diligently maintain the requisite six feet of space. Every few minutes the line moves forward solemnly and I take my place on the next strip of duct tape.

Facemasks are the hot new fashion accessory. Some folks have the standard surgical models, but most are wearing decorated cloth wraps. Unable to find anything else, I’m rocking the bandito look with bandana and gloves.

Fully succumbed to quarantine life, I haven’t showered in three days. My parenting skills are evident in the grime on my pants.

As we move into the shadow of the building, I zip up my jacket with a white stain on the sleeve that I hope is toothpaste and try to remember my list, which is, of course, dependent on what’s in stock.

Read the rest here.

“So… How Long Have You Been Part of the Problem?”

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Bay-Bridge-Moon-Trevor-Johnson-web

“In the end, everyone in San Francisco will get evicted.”

The guy in the back of my taxi is in the middle of an epic rant.

“Regardless of how many generations deep you are, how much money you got, where you work, whether you’re famous or living in a tent – none of that matters. When you die, they’ll box you up and relocate you down to Colma. Or dump your remains in the Bay. Or whatever. Because nobody gets to stay in The City forever.”

Stuck on the lower deck of the Bay Bridge, in traffic moving like a funeral procession, it’s hard not to think about death. Especially as this guy’s negative comments rack up faster than the clicks on the taximeter.

“Yeah, I guess so,” I mumble.

Read the rest here.

[photo by Trevor Johnson]

Random Views from a San Francisco Taxi

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Scenes of San Francisco and the Bay Area from behind the wheel:

I-980 – at West Grand exit
Townsend Street – Caltrain taxi stand
Baker-Barry Tunnel – into the blur
Market Street – Union Square
Hyde Street – Lyfted
Stanyan and Oak – head on
SoMa – start ups gone wild
San Jose – with a few detours
Hilton Union Square – hooker row
Turk Street – robot and man
Market Street – bike lane violation
Valencia Street – in an afternoon haze
Clay Street – a one way street
Showcase Square – outside the Great Northern
Bayview – The National taxi lot at dawn

The Passenger is (Not) Always Right

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mcarthurmaze_1

Nobody knows the streets of San Francisco like cab drivers. Not the cops, the firemen, the bus drivers… Only cab drivers traverse every inch of The City.

Sure, Uber and Lyft drivers cover almost as much ground (save the transit lanes), but with their faces constantly in their phones, following a line in a navigation app, what do they really see? Judging by how most drive, they certainly aren’t looking at the road. 

After a year of working the cabstands outside Mighty and Public Works, I’ve carved particular routes through The City that are, in my mind, efficient, both time-wise and cost-wise.

Since there is little traffic at 3 a.m., I drive as the bird flies, following the map of San Francisco imprinted in my brain and try to hit the timed lights.

When I get a fare out of Public Works, say, going to the Sunset District, I take Fifteenth to Castro, which becomes Divisadero, and turn left on Fell.

This path also works for the Richmond District, except, instead of continuing through the park, I take a right on Stanyan to Fulton.

Easy-peasy.

Out of curiosity, I followed the directions from Public Works to the Sunset District according to Google Maps: Mission to Van Ness, turn left on Hayes, another left at Gough and then a right onto Fell. In the end, this path cost over two dollars more and wasted several minutes.

So fuck you and your GPS, right?

Well, not so fast…

My column in the S.F. Examiner this week is about some of the most annoying passengers: directionally challenged backseat drivers. 

Read it here. 

 

(screenshot of the MacArthur Maze from Google Maps)

 

And now this, from Jimmy the Cab Driver: