Queens, New York: A driver reads a paper while the short line at JFK's Taxi Central Holding. (RJ Mickelson/amNY)

Tucked away on a remote road at Kennedy Airport is a hive of activity so loud, even the airplanes don’t drown it out.

At the dispatch hub for airport cabs, crowds of African men play dominos, Haitians debate the future of their country and Indians play cricket at daybreak.

They may say they’re bored while waiting for a fare, but it sure doesn’t look like it.

“Some guys do pull ups,” said a Port Authority spokesman, during a recent visit to the 240,000-square foot complex. “Some will come here and take a nap.That’s up to them. We just want to keep the cabs moving.”

The Port Authority built the “Central Taxi Hold” facility in the early 1990s to organize cab dispatching.. Cabbies park their cars and wait about two hours to hear their number called over a loudspeaker. Up to 10,000 rides leave a day, so killing time is part of the game of getting $40 fares.

“I read about the soul,” said Jatinder Singh, 50, a Floral Park driver who meditates and does yoga there. 

Amenities are minimal. There are no TVs, the small cafeteria is chair-less and the men’s bathroom is infamous  — with its broken stalls and toilets clogged by drivers who use them as a foot wash. When asked what the facility needed, one cabbie quickly quipped, “women.”

But hacks, well known as hard-scrabbled workhorses have turned this drab patch of concrete into a hall of parlor games. The clacking of dominos comes from multiple corners, while other drivers cart worn, wooden backgammon boards from their cars. Gambling is prohibited, but drivers say it still happens on the sly.

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“It gets competitiveThey are basically professionals,” said Otar Kukhalashvili, 29, of Brooklyn, as a heated backgammon game unfolded next to a sea of yellow cars.

This is a man’s world divided by ethnic and religious lines: Haitians play dominos, Indians love a card game called seep and Muslims pray on rugs thrown down near a Dumpster. Many drivers knew each other back in their home countries, or have grown close after years of passing time together.

“It’s like therapy,” said Andre Senat, 43, as he stood with other Haitian cabbies speaking rapid-fire Creole. “After dealing with those people in Manhattan, you have to talk about it.”

In the winter, coffee is the swift seller in the cafeteria. In the summer it’s vanilla Haagen-Dazs, surprisingly. Still, most driver bring their own familiar food from home rather than buy lunch there.

“The food is not good,” said Gurinder Singh, 25, who carts in Punjabi food. Other selections included a galloon thermos filled with ice tea and a whole cucumber hanging out of one driver’s mouth.

No matter how engrossing the game or conversation, hacks know instinctively when it’s their time for a fare. The game simply stops and they walk to their car. No need for long goodbyes—tomorrow, they’ll be back to wait together again.