I moved to San Francisco just before the 1989 earthquake. Since that time I have worked a variety of jobs, some legal and some not so legal, but never in my wildest dreams or scariest nightmares did I ever expect to be driving a taxicab from dusk 'til dawn. That's what makes life so grand, all of those blind corners can lead to almost anything. Most guys move on to other interests by the end of their first year, then there are the chosen few, who the longer we keep driving, the harder it is to get out. I was just never interested in what the establishment had to offer me. Like all "underachievers" I was intelligent enough to get by with little or no effort while putting the majority of my energy into self-medication. That's the politically correct way of saying I grew up smoking pot, eating acid,and doing whatever else whenever possible to escape the reality of a world I wanted to be as far away from as possible. I must say I did a damn good job of that,until I became a San Francisco Taxi Driver.
"Bud Carson's My Fare City is intelligent, poetic, gritty, and gives us middle-class play it safers a facinating look at the darker side of society."
takes you on a wild taxi ride free of charge through San Francisco.
You'll never be a tight tipper again! He takes risks to bring you the
inside story, from admitting to smoking dope in the cab to getting laid
on the job, with lively descriptions of passengers and rides.
Apparantly, 'in this business you have to be careful not to get a full
time girl because you end up wasting your nights servicing her instead
of the vehicle.' This is uncensored reality and one of the best
examples of journal work online."
"Though I was born in the mornin', I wasn't born this morning," warns San Francisco cab driver Bud Carson, whose daily encounters are described here. A college dropout and survivor of long periods of what he calls "self-medication", Bud's dispatches offer a grittily optimistic, street- level view of the trade. Kickbacking, Dead Heading and Cracking the Nut are explained in a dictionary of cabby slang, and the logistics of the business are fascinating. Some of the darker encounters - and the neon blur of the title page - recall Scorsese, but the trouble is, so does Bud, constantly, in his narrative: "Wanting to save hookers from themselves wasn't in my job description. If I shave my head I may rethink my position." Some customer relationships are more redolent of Confessions of a Taxi Driver than Taxi Driver. Still an intriguing, if self-conscious, urban document. Bill Pannifer, The (London) Independent