I drove a cab, too. In LA. Passengers liked me 'cause I spoke English. Gay men in Silverlake liked me 'cause I wasn't homophobic. I'd drive them to the clubs in West Hollywood. "Can we call you when we're ready to come home?" they'd ask.

No. 'Cause we, LA Taxi, were only allowed to pick up fares in the city proper (even the SFV, a part of the city, was somehow off-limits for us to pick up). So, no Valley, no Beverly Hills, no unincorporated, etc..

Days I drove old ladies from Westlake to shop Downtown. They had cool stories of pre-war LA. They used coupons issued by the city to pay. Tipped dimes.

During my six months driving some four or five cabbies were murdered in robberies. For a while I carried a piece (it's a misdemeanor in LA, not a felony like NYC), but then I realized it'd just get in trouble.

Traffic?

Oh yeah. Most definitely.

Learning about the city, in great detail?

Nice.

But, being LA, there was no money in it. Pretty much everyone starved for the first 12 months. It was survival of the fittest, & I wasn't fit enough.

Glad to learn you didn't go all Travis Bickle & got out instead.