Tag Archives: working the airport

The SFO Casino


When all else fails, there’s always the SFO casino …

On most nights, deadheading to the airport is a gamble. But with taxis sandbagging every hotel, bar, strip joint and DJ club in The City, a Hail Mary seems like the only option.

On my way to the freeway, I stop by Mythic Pizza for a couple slices. Not much is happening on Haight Street. The only customers inside the restaurant are two young ladies sitting at a table having a very loud, profanity-laden conversation about their personal lives.

When my slices are ready, I look for the parmesan, but the container isn’t with the other condiments — it’s on the table where the young ladies are sitting.

I ask if they’re done with the cheese.

“Do your thing,” one says snidely.

Uh, OK. I carry it back to the counter and sprinkle the cheese liberally over my pepperoni slices.

As I’m heading out the door, the girls yell at me:

“Whoa, dude! Where’s our parmesan?”

“What?” I laugh, as if they’re fucking with me.

Their serious faces imply otherwise …

Read the rest here.

[photo by Christian Lewis]


The SFO Open Lot Feeding Frenzy


What am I doing at the airport? According to Ben this is where taxi drivers go when they’ve lost all hope. As I idle in a long line of taxis, my initial optimism rapidly dissipates.

I’m not even sure if this line goes anywhere. For all I know, it could lead to the exit.

I try to find a familiar face. Someone to ask, “Am I in the right place?”

The drivers around me are focused, collectively champing at the bit.

When the line moves a little, the promise of a paying fare is restored. But it’s fleeting and movement grinds to a halt.

Then the honking starts. Haphazardly as first, until it reaches a furious crescendo.

Why are they blowing their horns? There’s no indication anyone is responsible for the hold up, so what’s the point of laying on the horn?

This is open lot.

Between 12:45 a.m. to 6 a.m., taxis entering SFO aren’t required to pay the usual fee. And you don’t have to wind through the various holding lots that drivers affectionately call the Donut, the Loop and the Wiggle. None of which are as exciting as their names imply.

During open lot, you drive right up to the terminal.

Even though I’ve never worked the airport in almost three years of taxi driving, last Thursday, I decided to try my luck with open lot.

Read the entire column here.

[photo by Christian Lewis]