The art of hailing a San Francisco taxi

In the last two weeks, I've concluded there are few things in life more trying than hailing a San Francisco taxi. Between the relative scarcity of taxis, the lack of a consistent light system (In New York, it's simple: If the light's on, the taxi's free. If it's off, it's not. In San Francisco, it's anyone's guess), and the maddening indifference of SF taxi drivers ("It's such a nice day. I'm not sure if I really NEED any passengers to enjoy a day like this") what seems like a simple task requires a high degree of patience ... and skill.

You must not get frustrated by the empty taxis that whiz by you on the way to a radio call, you must not be humiliated when you try to wave down a taxi with a smirking passenger you failed to notice; you must not be deterred by the carousing teenage boys who heckle you as they drive by and try to high-five your taxi-hailing hand. You must not be intimidated by the drunk and staggering street resident who propositions you as you wait. No. If you are to hail a taxi in downtown San Francisco, you must persist. Keep that arm out. Yell "Taxi" at the top of your lungs. Run right out into that center lane at the red light and jump into that open cab. In short: Act like a New Yorker. Eventually, your efforts will be rewarded, and if you're lucky: Noted...

"You can always tell a New Yorker," one taxi driver explained, nodding approvingly at me in the rear view window. "They're serious about hailing cabs."