I arrive in Oakland and enter the yellow cab of Kwel Bashir. “San Francisco” please!

As a jewish man, the name Kwel sets of the obligatory stereotypes. Further freaking me out, Kwell took off like a bat ot of hell. I am used to dry and sunny – 120 days straight for me in Phoenix – instead I have rain and a cab doing 120 miles per hour.

I didn’t say “step on it”.

What is it with cab drivers these days – where are they rushing too. I figured Kwel had some serious plans for tonight. Me – just hang on and survive!

Get safely to San Francisco, stiff him a little on the tip because of the death ride and 10 minutes later at my room, can’t find my blackberry.

“Holy %&)^)&*_(* ker”

Now if you know me, this is where it gets funny. Just last week I broke my trusted crackberry and had not backed up in about 6 months. Putz! Just got the new one, loaded it after a week and now it’s gone again. Note to self – BACK IT UP .

KWEL!!!! I am saying it like Seinfeld says “Newmannnnn” – all that negative energy and Kwel owns my ass now. Calls to Yellow Cab were answered by Morgan Stanley. Let’s just say that I was looking for a Verizon store at the hotel concierge.

Than, out of what seemed like dream like cloud, in barges Kwell to the hotel lobby.

Case closed. Let’s just say he got his tip!