"You wanna know the truth about all these clubgoing people?" says Zippy the cabdriver as he takes me deep into the Gaslamp on New Year's Eve.
"I always do."
Zippy is a short guy in his 50s with a gray beard and long hair.
"Ninety-five percent of them are all right," he tells me. "It's the other five percent that make the world a slice of hell. You get these obnoxious drunks who like to order you around. You get the screaming girls, the loud girls, poking their bodies out and flashing people or throwing up in the back seat."
"Ever have anyone famous in this cab?" I ask.
"Mojo Nixon, many years ago."
"I hope he wasn't a jerk."
"He was okay," says Zippy, "just a lousy tipper."