Wednesday, November 27, 2024

THE HOUR OF DRIVERLESS TAXIS

Yesterday was not much fun, due to a cold. And worrying about both anal leakage and psychotic episodes. Of which there were none. These are seldom symptoms of a cold, in my experience. So that would have been other passengers on the bus. Some of whom might have been afflicted with both of those things, possibly while having a cold. Sadly, none.
One worries about these things in San Francisco.
The Chinese grannie? The white yuppie?
That lawyer talking to himself?
It could be anybody!

That very likely accounts for the popularity of the driverless taxis (Waymo) on the streets here. You don't have to worry about the other people in the vehicle. Unless you habitually share rides with people who might have anal leakage or psychotic episodes.

The three times when one sees the most of them are morning rush, evening rush, and right around midnight when rational people stop getting blotto with their pals and decide that they need to get up bright and early for work or else tomorrow will be wasted.
Having spent a large part of the day mostly inactive, due to the cold, I got out of the house late and headed into Chinatown for something to eat. But I didn't have much appetite. Barely finished half of my riceplate, and wasn't totally enthusiastic over the milk tea either. Tapped out my pipe half-way through, and caught the bus back home.

Commitment to routine, more than any real interest.
Leakage and psychotic episodes were lacking.
But wouldn't have made a difference.



One of these days they're bound to be a factor. At which point driverless taxis will get a further boost. Even among the normal crowd of die-hard public transit types.
You know, if I experienced anal leakage, I'd fake a psychotic episode.
Go for the gusto. Pull out all the stops.
Make it worthwhile.




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