Category Archives: Behind the Wheel Zine

Bookstores that carry Behind the Wheel 3: From Uber/Lyft to Taxi

 

Behind the Wheel 3 is available at these bookstores:

In the Mission:

Dog Eared Books
900 Valencia St.
​San Francisco, CA 94110

Adobe Books
3130 24th St.
San Francisco, CA 94110

Alley Cat Books
3036 24th St.
San Francisco, CA 94110

Needles and Pens
1173 Valencia St.
​San Francisco, CA 94110

Thrillhouse Records

In North Beach:

City Lights Bookstore
261 Columbus Ave.
San Francisco, CA 94133

Soon to be stocked:

Bound Together in the Haight
Dog Eared Books on Castro

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Behind the Wheel 3 Reviewed in Razorcake Magazine

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Behind the Wheel 3 was reviewed in the latest issue of Razorcake magazine. The reviewer particularly liked the Late Night Larry bits.

You can listen to Larry read one of the stories here.

Read the full review on Razorcake’s website.

Behind the Wheel 3: The Unexpurgated Columns

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Behind the Wheel 3: From Uber/Lyft to Taxi – The Unexpurgated “I Drive SF” Columns

Order the print version here

The digital version is available here

The third installment in the Behind the Wheel series is a ribald journey into the reality of driving a bonafide San Francisco taxicab. Gritty and raw, the view from a cab is not for the faint-hearted. From facilitating drug deals to abetting prostitution to just getting people home safely from the clubs… The job of a night cabbie isn’t over until the sun comes up.

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60 pages
half size (5.5×8.5)
wraparound color cover
illustrated with images from the behind the wheel
staple bound

Gallery of pages

Includes “my other car is a taxicab” sticker.

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From the Utne Reader: “To Uber or Not to Uber”

I had a subscription to the Utne Reader all through college. So it was an honor to have my story, “To Uber or Not to Uber” (from the second Behind the Wheel zine), reprinted in the pages of the Winter 2015 issue of the Utne Reader

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Read the printed version online.

Behind the Wheel 2: Notes from an Uber/Lyft Zine at LA Zine Fest

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Behind the Wheel 2: Notes from an Uber/Lyft represented at the LA Zine Fest, along with Disrupt the Disrupters stickers. Get a copy here.

Thanks to Sarah Bitely of Pimpkillah for representing Piltdownlad:

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A Power Couple Walks into a Sex Club…

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Her rating is 4.2.

I accept the ride automatically, like I do with all my Uber requests. The ping comes in and I tap the flashing icon on my iPhone as quickly as possible before it expires. I don’t even look at the passenger name. I’m too busy fighting traffic to reach the pinned location. But at a red light, I press the link in the Uber app that opens up the passenger info screen. That’s when I notice Julia’s rating.

In the four months I’ve been driving for Uber, this is the worst passenger rating I’ve seen. Even though very few Uber passengers have five-star ratings, they’re usually around 4.8 or 4.7. So as I approach Hyde and O’Farrell, I can’t help but wonder why Julia’s previous drivers had rated her so low.

I pull into a bus stop, hit the hazards, and look around. Nobody in sight. Maybe that’s the problem. Making your driver wait longer than a minute will definitely cost you a star. In the Tenderloin, two stars. At least. I’m lucky I have a space to pull into. Otherwise I’d be double-parked in the flow of traffic, getting honked at by spiteful cab drivers or possibly rear-ended by a disoriented tourist. I wait five minutes, watching my side mirrors in case a bus approaches. Just as I’m about to cancel the ride, my phone rings.

“We’re on Jones, between Eddy and Turk.  Uber messed up our address.”

A likely story. Probably doesn’t know how to use the damn app. Inputting the wrong pick up location is another way to lose a star.

“Okay. I’m right around the corner. See you in a sec.”

Fortunately, I don’t have to circle four blocks on the one-way streets downtown.  Just take a left at Eddy and a right on Jones. Pull up behind a double-parked taxi. A woman and a man wave at me.  I unlock the doors.

“Sorry about that,” Julia says, as she slides across the back seat.  The man climbs in next to her.

“No worries.” I pull into traffic.  Glance at the cabbie eyeing me wearily.  “The app can be a little janky at times.”

“McCallister and Baker,” the man tells me.  “Do you need the exact address?”

“Nah. We’ll sort it out when we get there.”

I turn right onto Turk and head towards the Western Addition.  I figure they’ll give me the silent treatment.  Like most Uber passengers.  Which, in the ratings playbook, is another lost point.

“How’s your night going so far?” the man asks.

“It’s cool.  How you guys doing?”

“We just came from the Power Exchange,” he says.

“Oh yeah?”

“Do you know the Power Exchange?”

“A club?”

“A sex club,” Julia says with a hint of derision.

I can’t tell by her voice if she’s telling me because they’d wandered in by mistake or on purpose. “Really?”

“Yeah. But it was lame,” the man tells me. “We were the only couple there.”

“Just lots of dudes jerking off,” Julia says. “Following us around and asking if they could join in.” She laughs. “It was so gross.”

“There was that one woman giving a blowjob,” the guy points out.

“Ugh.  But she was so fat and the dude was covered in hair… I had to turn away.”

At a stoplight, I glance in my rearview. They are an attractive couple. She’s made up like a three-alarm fire and he’s got the international man of mystery vibe down pat. In a club full of dudes looking to wank it to people having sex in public, I can see how they would be popular.

“Was this your first trip to a sex club?” I ask, since they seem inclined to converse and I’m curious.

“Oh yeah. And probably the last.” Julia laughs.

“It’s not like we were able to do anything,” the man says. “Whenever we started making out, the guys would swarm.”

“We left after twenty minutes,” says Julia.

“I guess that was something we needed to experience so we’d never have to try again,” the man tells her.

“I mean, if circumstances were different…”

“Oh, sure… but they’d have to be very different circumstances…”

Their voices go lower. It’s obvious I’m no longer part of the discussion. I focus on driving.  Watch for errant pedestrians and wobbling bicyclists. I tap my fingers on the steering wheel at the lights. The Pixies are playing on the iPod hardwired into my stereo, but the sound is barely perceptible. I keep the volume low and faded to the front speakers when I have passengers in the car. Nobody likes rock music anymore. It’s all about deep house, EDM and dubstep, which I had to google after hearing the term mentioned constantly.

When I get close to the couple’s location, I ask which street they’re on, Baker or McCallister.

“Baker,” Julia says. “About halfway down on the right. Next to that streetlight.”

I pull over in front of an Edwardian apartment building and end the ride. “Have a good night.”

“You too. Drive safe.”

“I’ll do my best.”

I rate her five stars. Like I do with all my passengers. Unlike most Uber drivers, I adhere to the philosophy: live by the rating, die by the rating.

I go back online. Head down Divisadero and wait for another ping.

 

Originally published in Behind the Wheel 2: Notes from an Uber/Lyft and on Broke-Ass Stuart’s Goddamn Website

Image by Irina and Kelly Dessaint.