Lyft Zine Distribution in San Francisco

Behind the Wheel: A Lyft Driver's Log is now available at Press, Adobe Bookshop and Alley Cat Books on 24th Street in the Mission and Bound Together in the Haight. 

Stock has been replenished at Dog Eared Books and Needles and Pens in the Mission as well City Lights in North Beach.

Copies will also be available at the San Francisco Zine Fest on Aug 30 and 31. I'll be at table 55.

Disrupt the Disruptors

It's a sticker.

My Official Removal from the Lyft Pacific Lounge Notice

I found this message from one of Lyft's "lounge mentors" Matt Jensen in my "other" folder in Facebook a few weeks after I'd noticed I could no longer access the Pacific Driver Lounge:

I guess they could have deactivated me, like they did with this driver from Chicago.


Read the full story behind how I was "removed" from the Pacific Driver Lounge here.


----

Ten Annoying Questions I Get Asked as a Lyft Driver - The Listicle

I made a listicle on Buzzfeed from an old blog post: the ten most annoying questions I get asked as Lyft driver in San Francisco.

I'm so 21st Century.

Chasing the Surge; Or, Tip Your Uber Driver, You Cheap Bastards!

Most rideshare drivers chase the surge. There are Lyft and Uber driver groups on Facebook seemingly devoted to posting screengrabs of high-ticket fares during price surges. Drivers click “like” and make comments like, “Lucky you!” or “I wish I weren’t already in bed or I’d get in my car right now!”
I’ve always been ambivalent about Uber’s surge pricing and Lyft’s “prime time.” I get the concept of supply and demand, but I’d much rather let the passenger decide how much my service is worth with an actual tip.

Surge pricing forces generosity from people who would otherwise not give you a penny more than what is required. And since Uber discourages tipping, the only amount required is whatever comes up on the app. Surge pricing is the only time drivers get more than what the app determines. So it’s no wonder drivers revel in it and respond to high fares like they just won the lottery.

While Lyft at least has the option to tip in the app, Uber is sticking to the no-tip rule. They even discourage drivers from accepting cash tips when passengers offer them. There are even some drivers who follow that rule.

Regardless of what Travis Kalanick thinks is a better model for transportation, driving is a service-based task. Only assholes stiff service workers on tips.

So, you may be wondering, who cares if passengers have to pay more — or a LOT more — when demand is high? Doesn’t the extra money make up for all the times they didn’t have to pay extra for the luxury of being driven around town, oftentimes receiving water and snacks along the way?

Perhaps, but telling riders they don’t have to tip and then forcing them to tip when it’s busy is ass backwards.

Why did Uber take tipping out of the equation anyway? It’s not like we’re getting paid more than taxi drivers. You wouldn’t stiff a cabbie on a tip, so why do it to rideshare drivers?

The no-tip rule is an absurd aspect of Uber’s business model. It may seem like a good idea to the consumer during normal times, but when they’re looking at a $400 dollar fare, like the unfortunate festival-goers at Outside Lands this year, all of a sudden, tossing a few extra bucks to your driver doesn’t seem like that big of a deal anymore.

----

Rideshare Chump

I’m idling in the bike lane on Valencia with my hazards flashing. For the past five minutes, I’ve been pulled to the right as far as I can so I’m not disrupting the flow of traffic anymore than I have to. I cringe each time a bicyclist has to swerve around my car. I watch a cab pull up to a couple. They climb in the back and the driver takes off. He glances in my direction as he passes me. He’s probably thinking, what a chump! And he’d be right. Rideshare drivers are total chumps! No self-respecting cabbie would wait longer than a few minutes to pick up a fare. If the passenger isn’t ready to go when they show up, fuck em! I’m inclined to split, but I’m giving Glen the benefit of the doubt. Cause I’m a chump. I just called him and he assured me that he’s on his way out. So I wait, like a chump, grateful I’m not in a worse position.

What’s wrong with this guy? I swear, some passengers can be real assholes. Not only do they request a ride and then make you wait, they don’t want to take more than a few steps to get in your car. So you have to make sure you get as close to their pinned location as possible while you block traffic waiting for them to mosey outside. Otherwise… otherwise, what? They rate you low. 

Uber passengers are definitely worse than their Lyft counterparts. Uber passengers make you flip a bitch to pick them up on the opposite side of the street. They send you into awkward driving situations without a single concern for what it’s like to drive a car in this city. And they make you wait. It’s an epidemic.

Fuck you, Glen! You fucking scumbag dickhead cocksucking motherfucker!

Oh, is that him with the girl?

I look at them imploringly. Please be my passenger...

They walk past me.

Fuck! I fucking hate Glen! I wish I hadn’t called him and had just canceled. Now, because I’m such a chump, I keep waiting. Another Uber car pulls up behind me. Hey, fellow chump. I wonder how long you’ll have to wait.

Well, fuck! His passengers are ready to go. Lucky bastard.

Just as I’m about to hit “cancel-no show,” dickhead Glen shows up with his chick. They climb in the back.

“Sorry for the delay,” the girl says.

“No problem.”

As I take them downtown, listening to them discuss their lame-ass jobs, I hate myself just as much as I hate them for playing along with their self-entitled douchebaggery. 

I think this is the last time. From now on I won’t wait longer than two minutes. Three at the most. Maybe four, if it’s not a busy street.

----

Peep Show for an Uber

At Post and Buchanan, in front of the Japantown Peace Plaza, three obviously drunk guys and a totally wasted chick stumble towards my car. They are blonde, Abercrombie and Fitch types. I’m waiting for a guy named Raffi.

“Are you our Uber?” one of the guys demands.

“Are you Raffi?”

“No. I’m Steve.”

“I’m looking for Raffi.”

“I can be Raffi.”

“Sorry.”

The girl approaches and asks why they’re not getting into my car.

“This isn’t our Uber,” the guy tells her.

“Why not?” she squeals and leans into my window. “Can’t you be our Uber?”

“Sorry.” I smile.

“C’mon. I’ll show you my tits.”

“Sorry.” I shrug.

“Don’t you want to see my tits?” She pushes her shoulders together to emphasize what little cleavage she has. Gyrates her shoulders and winks like she’s Marilyn Monroe, not some drunk preppy girl who probably works in PR because it fits her bubbly personality. “They’re kinda great.”

She’s a B cup at best. I resist the urge to tell her I’m not impressed. I have a pair of DDs waiting for me at home.

Her male friend careens closer and chimes in, “I’ve seen them and they’re fantastic.”

“Look,” I say. “I’m sure your tits are awesome. But I can only pick up designated passengers. Sorry.”

The girl continues to jiggle her goods at me until a couple approach my car from the other side of Post. This guy looks like a Raffi.

They slide past the drunk girl as they get in the backseat.

“Sorry about that, Raffi,” I say.

“That’s okay.”

The drunk girl waves and shouts as we pull away.

“That girl is pretty drunk,” I say with a chuckle.

“We know,” says the woman with Raffi. “They were in the restaurant.”

I can tell by her tone of voice that the girl and her rowdy friends had interfered with their night out. “Sorry.”

“That’s okay. We’re going home to watch the new Game of Thrones.”

I drive them to a high-rise in South Park.

-----