banana flavored shimp chips

Such a cold winter day for us here in San Francisco. I got to the yard about 4:30 this afternoon and everyone was all bundled up waiting for their cab. Some old timer called the yard a fishmarket - and really its apt. Everyone pushing towards the window with money in their fists scambling for attention.

The scene is set up like an old 1970s sitcom - yes you know the one, except for outdoors since it is California. Mostly outdoors, when you enter it it seems like some post apocalyptical looking mangled cab cemetary, and the further in you get the more sea of yellow you see. In the center of this madness is the cage, otherwise known as dispatch, the guys who are really in charge of your happiness, your liveliehood and basically decide if you wait two minutes or two hours to start your day.

When I got to the front, I was offered a spare, that means a crappy ass cab that wheezes and squeaks to a halt and probably eats gas like candy. Or a wait, so wait I did. I think its humiliating to take out a spare on an assigned shift. But thats just me. I am treated well after two years, the dispatch is past the paying my dues portion of my time there. So I only waited about forty minutes for a car. Talked nutrition with another driver. He told me he doesnt eat - a bagel a day because he has no appetite. Made me wonder if I would have an appetite either if I had to move to this fucked up country so I could send money home and drive clueless Americans around all night.

Got an amazingly new cab tonite, and no passengers for almost my first hour. My third set of passengers were a radio pick up on 20th and Geary. Three women who had me make a few stops - And for some reason, why do people expect you to read their minds just because your driving. Its like how they don't put their seatbelts on in a cab. Why do they trust us so much? Cab drivers are some of the most fucked up drivers on the road. Anyway, I had to reverse up Gough (a one way street) and hop over the curb into the apartment complex - they squealed, which of course made me happy. When I finally got the last girl to her door and helped her drag her groceries across the sidewalk, she was so happy she gave me three bags of what I thought were shrimp chips - and damn I was hungry so I was very thankful. But they were a new twist on an old concept. Banana flavored! Now thats dinner for you.