3-Taxi-Parlay-by-Douglas-Oconnor-web

Not working for ten days really threw me off my taxi game.

Once I’m finally behind the wheel of Veterans 233 again on Wednesday, it’s a struggle to get my groove back. Everything feels awkward. The seat’s out of whack. The mirrors are positioned wrong. There’s a painful crick in my shoulder. And a fog encircles my thinking.

Can I even still drive a taxi? I wonder. Or was that fever dream last week, which involved negotiating a complicated matrix of Jenga blocks and TV boxes, a harbinger of things to come?

On the streets, I’m riddled with doubt. Each set of cross streets is a pop quiz.

Fortunately, instinct takes over and I manage to navigate rush hour traffic without incident.

Still, something feels off. I’ve lost my edge. Which is a problem when driving a taxi in San Francisco. This job is not for the meek. Without a thickarmor, you’ll get eaten alive …

Read the rest here.

[photo by Douglas O’Connor]

P39-taxi-by-Douglas-OConnor-web

This week’s column about driving a taxi is about a week spent not driving a taxi…

One advantage of writing this column each week is that I have notes on almost every shift I’ve driven in the past four years. With this plethora (or waste, some might say) of information, I can generally figure out what to expect on holidays based on previous observations. Such as Labor Day.

Of course, the week leading up to Labor Day is also Burning Man, when a noticeable percentage of the population in the Bay Area migrates to the Nevada desert.

Abandoned in the void are the alleged beneficiaries of the holiday — the workers. Especially those who toil in service, including numerous drivers, who, desperate or just overly habitual, spend the weekend struggling to make a couple bucks on the otherwise empty streets of The City.

Over the past four years, I have been one of those hungry and habitual motorists for hire, albeit mostly un-hired and oh so bored… until the only thing left to do was practice your road rage … Wheelin’ & dealin’

With past column headlines like “Burnt out without the Burners,” “The top light is on but I’m not” and “Hell is other cab drivers,” I don’t need to browse old Word files on my computer, search the Notes app on my phone or exhume discarded Moleskins from the Filing System of Hell to get a sense of the impact that Burning Man and Labor Day will have on cab driving.