There’s a parking lot behind the club and concert venue The Midway where an independent businessman runs an illicit operation.

Standing at around 6 feet, 3 inches, and weighing somewhere in the region of 250 pounds, the man, whom we’ll call the Watcher, offers to protect the cars of clubgoers — for a price. 

The Port of San Francisco, which owns the lot, contends that the operation is illegal, and The Midway issued a disapproving statement. But when San Francisco Police Department officers visited the lot Jan. 17, they merely gave The Watcher a warning and left, he said. The SFPD was unable to confirm this or “locate any information.”

Rough, with fading paint and weeds sprouting through cracks in the asphalt, and the distinct smell of urine in one corner, the lot sits next to an entrance to Pier 80 at Islais Creek. During the day, it’s mostly empty. But on weekend nights, it fills with the cars of revelers heading to The Midway and, sometimes, teens pre-gaming in their vehicles.

The Watcher, who lives in the Antioch area and declined to provide his name for obvious reasons, discovered the lot’s money-making powers last year while working as a driver in the area. When he lost his job, he had an idea: Hang out at the lot entrance and charge people $20 to park. He knew it wasn’t legal, but neither was it legal for club-goers to park or drink there. So one July evening, he gave it a shot. Promising to keep a watchful eye on the cars, he quickly found he could make up to $700 on a busy Friday or Saturday night. But most weekend nights, he nets around $250, he said. 

Six months later, he’s commuting to the Central Waterfront every Friday and Saturday to work the lot entrance. He shows up before The Midway’s first event of the evening and stays until about 3 a.m. 

According to the Watcher, there has been one car break-in in the lot since he started the operation, and it was targeted — a dispute between men he did not want to get involved in.

“There’s people that want me to watch their car,” he said on a recent Friday.

The unofficial lot attendant, dressed in sneakers and a blue coach’s jacket and smoking a cigarette, said he sees his work as honest. He has even pulled weeds in the lot and, with help from the city, would like to repaint the parking space lines and clean up the urine, he said.

“He watches the cars here. I think people should at least give him something,” said Manny Ranjo, a nurse who was heading to The Midway to see rapper KRS-One perform.

Ranjo said he loves The Midway in part because he doesn’t have to worry about his car getting broken into while he’s at a show. He added that he went to an electronic concert series at Hibernia SF but couldn’t enjoy himself because he was worried about his car the whole time.

But not everybody supports the Watcher. Redditors have described him as “sketchy” and “thugy.” One commenter speculated that the Watcher would threaten anybody who refused to pay; another worried about getting stabbed.

The Midway has denounced the Watcher’s actions. “We hate hearing someone is illegally profiting off of our patrons from parking obtained without the property owner’s consent,” said Ian Molloy, general manager of the club.

The Port of San Francisco, meanwhile, will work with police to “take further steps if the activity continues,” according to a spokesman. The port has contracted a security guard service to monitor the lot in the evening. 

James Cosculluela of A1 Protective Services was working the lot when The Standard visited. 

“His time is coming to an end,” Cosculluela said of the Watcher, adding that he’d notified police of the illicit activity.

The Watcher seemed unbothered by the possibility that police would come. He said he’s never threatened anybody at the lot, and if people decline to pay, he doesn’t stop them from parking; he just doesn’t watch over their vehicles or wait for them to return before he leaves. SFPD officers  have come before, he added, and let him off with a warning.

The Watcher did, however, seem annoyed by Cosculluela’s dedication to bringing him down. The last security guard who monitored the lot, he said, took a cut of his informal earnings — until the guard’s employer found out and fired him. He tried to offer Cosculluela money once, but the guard refused it.

Growing up in the Mission, the Watcher got involved with gangs at a young age. He said his parents gave him an ultimatum: He could live with family in either Central America or Utah. It was an easy choice, he said, and he spent the next 20 years south of the border (he wouldn’t say which country).

When he moved back, he reconnected with an old girlfriend and got married. They live in the East Bay, and he works the parking lot to support them. He’d like to get a permit from the city and open an honest parking attendant business, but he doesn’t know where to start, he said. All he has is the clientele.

Ranjo is now one of Watcher’s regular clients and texts him before heading to events at The Midway to make sure he’ll be working. One of his friends, a fellow music lover who had his car stolen from another venue, also enlists the Watcher’s services, Ranjo said.

The Standard observed the Watcher chatting with other regular customers and explaining the rules of engagement to newcomers.

“It’s $20 if you want me to watch your car,” he told one couple. They agreed.

He feels it’s not fair for people to call him a scammer.

“If I was a scammer, I’d take the money and leave,” he said. “It’s more like a hustle.”