4.
Coming out of the diner, I make a check on the time.
It’s already half past one in the afternoon. I have just enough time to get home, get cleaned up, and think about hiring a driver to take me out to JFK for four o’clock. So much for seeing my little princess as soon as school lets out. I hope ol’ PCK III won’t mind reimbursing me for the cost. Making my way to the street corner, I hail a taxi to take me the rest of the way downtown.
Opening the back door, I go to step in when somebody shoves up against me.
“Excuse me, my friend,” he says. “But are we not heading the same direction? Perhaps we should cut our expenses in two and share this cab.”
I’m a resident of two cities. Florence, Italy, and New York City. In Florence, the taxi cabs are white Mercedes Benz wagons. Oftentimes a
