Day Cabbie

San Francisco taxi stories from one of the very rare female drivers

An unintelligible hot tip

I was at the airport, and I was walking from one lot to the other like I always do. This tall long-legged skinny dude was walking from the other lot to my lot like he always does. We always seem to be in different lots, crossing paths. I am always looking for Mustapha, and he is always looking for I don't know what.

When our paths crossed this time, I said "Hi."

"Mary Porter 700 today, " he said in a heavy Indian accent. I had expected him to have an accent but not one that heavy.


"Mary Porter 700 today."

"I don't understand."

"Mary Porter 700 people today."

"Mary who?"

"Mary Porter 700 airport."



"Is that a person?"

"No. Married Porter 700 airport."

"Married what?" I was wondering if he was asking me if I was married.

"Married Port."

"I don't understand."

"Married Hotel."

"Marriott Hotel?"

"Yes. Marriott 700 people airport today."

"Which Marriott?" I finally got it. He was trying to tell me that 700 people were going to be leaving the Marriott today to go to the airport. He was trying to tell me to sit in line at the Marriott because I would probably get an airport out of it.

"Marriott Port Street." There is no Port Street in San Francisco.

"Polk Street?"

"No, Port."



"P-O-L-K?" I spelled it out.

"No, F-O-U-R," he spelled.





"Fourth and Market."




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