Saturday, August 23, 2014

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. Im 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.


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Sunday, August 17, 2014

Driving in San Francisco is the Worst


I’m an LA native. Say what you want about LA, but at least we know our way around a traffic jam. Driving in LA is a part of life. We take it seriously. Newcomers have a learning curve, but they quickly get indoctrinated into the LA style of driving or face dire consequences. LA drivers are like wild animals trapped in cages. If you poke at us with your crappy driving, we will strike back viciously and get you in line. Road rage is the equivalent of an ape throwing his shit at a contemptible visitor to the zoo.
LA drivers know all to well the primal animosity that surges up through your body and overwhelms you to the point of violence when you have to deal with some moron’s shitty driving. I once stopped my car in the street, got out and banged on this asshole’s window for tailgating me when I was looking for parking. The terrified look on his face may or may not have been worth the potential assault charge, but it made me feel better.
As a Lyft and Uber driver in San Francisco, I traverse almost the entire city over the course of a weekend. It’s a small place. That doesn’t mean it isn’t perilous. The narrow streets of San Francisco are full of buses, bicyclists and pedestrians. They're much more difficult to navigate that LA streets, which are just clogged with other cars. Many passengers ask me how I’m able to deal with driving in San Francisco. I tell them it’s like mastering a video game. You’re always trying to get to the next level. But honestly, it’s really not that difficult. The hardest part of driving in San Francisco is San Francisco drivers. They are the absolute worst.
I have a list of grievances I log daily in my Moleskin. I don’t know if longtime residents drive as crappy as the new transplants, if it’s just the tourists who are to blame or what, but these are the most egregious examples of horrible driving I see on a daily basis:
1. Always asleep at the wheel when the light turns green.
What the fuck? Pay attention! You’re in traffic! Be prepared to drive when the light turns green. Step on the fucking gas! I wanna get through the light too. It never fails, if I’m three cars behind the one at the light, I know I’m not going to make it.
2. Four way stops.
Some basic shit here, folks. The first person to stop is the first person to go. It’s not every man for himself. As you approach the four way intersection, pay attention to who gets there first. Look at their wheels. Have they stopped before yours? Yes? Then let them go. If not, you go. Two people stop at the same time? The one on the right goes. Three people? The one on the right still goes! This isn’t rocket science! I know throwing pedestrians into the mix makes it a tab bit confusing. But even though I have to skip my turn to let somebody cross, I’m still in the queue, goddamn it!
3. Merging.
Okay, the concept of two lanes of traffic merging into one seems to be mind-boggling to everybody. Even though, like a four way stop, there is a basic rule: one car from one lane, one car from the other lane. Like folding cards into a deck. This method keeps the flow of traffic moving and ensures everybody gets where they’re going without creating complete chaos. It’s fair and it’s the fucking law. But while drivers in every city fuck this simple method up, I have never seen cars in a merging lane perpendicular to traffic until I started driving in the Bay Area. East Bay drivers in particular seem to treat merge lanes as a free-for-all. And nobody respects a solid line! Solid means you can’t change lanes, asshole!
4. Double parking.
Sure, they’re nowhere to park in San Francisco and when you’re ridesharing, you have to pull over to pick people up and let them out in awkward situations all the time. But there are certain streets, namely the arterial thoroughfares, where double parking is not just impractical, it completely interrupts the flow of traffic. And yet it’s completely avoidable. Pull into a driveway. Let the person out on the corner. Do ANYTHING but don’t stop in the middle of the street. Arterial thoroughfares are the closest things we have to freeways in San Francisco. They are the quickest ways to cross the city. So don’t fuck it up for everybody else because you can’t be bothered to find a safe place to pull over.
5. Blocking intersections.
Again, it’s a simple rule of the road: if the car in front of you has not cleared the opposite crosswalk, don’t enter the intersection. You are going to block opposing traffic. Do you enjoy feeling like an asshole stuck in the middle of the intersection as traffic backs up waiting for you to move? You know we hate you, right?
6. Changing lanes on the freeway.
Do you really think that changing into the lane that is moving slightly more than the one you’re already in will get you where you’re going faster? If so, you’d be worng. And an idiot. Once you and all the other moronic drivers move into that lane, it will slow down the rest. There is no escape! Just accept the futility of traffic and don’t make it worse for the rest of us!
I could go on and on… I swear, the only thing worse than driving in San Francisco is dealing with San Franciscan pedestrians.

Thursday, August 14, 2014

Outside Lands & The Rideshare Feeding Frenzy



Before the Outside Lands festival was even over, numerous articles started popping up on sites like ValleyWagSF Weekly and SFist about ridiculously high fares due to Uber’s surge pricing. Each night after the event let out surge pricing got up to 5 times the normal rate. Online, everybody freaked out over a couple pics of some pretty high fares. Uber was portrayed as the bad guy, ripping off decent festivalgoers that just wanted to get home.
Yeah, it’s easy to hate on Uber. And plenty of commenters lambasted the spoiled passengers who couldn’t be bothered to take public transportation. Or walk. Or ride a bike. Though if they’d seen the mobs around the bus stops on Geary, they might have held back on some of that criticism. Those poor saps weren’t going anywhere anytime soon. Still, is it better to be a sucker? No. But another factor that’s being overlooked in all this brouhaha is that these high fares were not just the direct result of surge pricing. They are also a consequence of drivers coming into the city to work event and not knowing how to navigate the streets.

Tuesday, August 5, 2014

A Lyft Playlist


I have an iPod jack built into the center console of my Jetta. A perk that came with the California Edition. I’m able to control it through the stereo. Sort of. I can’t switch between playlists, select songs or anything sophisticated (that I know of), but I don’t have to worry about cords or accidentally leaving it in plain view when the kids who smash windows come patrolling the cars in my neighborhood.

Most of the time, I keep the volume down. I’m never sure what passengers will think of my choice in music, which leans heavily on punk and post-punk. I try to play songs people will like, but I listen to mostly obscure bands. Yeah, I know, like all record collectors, I’m a pretentious asshole.

Sunday, August 3, 2014

Top Ten Questions I Get Asked as a Lyft Driver


UPDATE: I turned this post into a listicle on Buzzfeed.

1. How long have you been driving for Lyft?
2. Do you like driving for Lyft?
3. Is this your full time job?
4. Where are you from?
5. Do you live in the city?
6. What’s Oakland like?
7. What’s the craziest thing that’s ever happened while driving for Lyft?
8. Has anybody ever thrown up in your car?
9. What song is this?
10. Where’s your mustache?

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Friday, August 1, 2014

Things Heard While Lyfting: “Wait, this isn’t an Uber?”


1:30 AM. The bars are letting out. Prime-Time surge pricing is fluctuating between seventy-five and one hundred percent. I head to the Mission, hoping to get some fast rides. Hit it and quit it. That’s the name of the game with the late night drunkies. Cabs, Ubers, Lyfts, towncars… practically every car on the road is looking for passengers.