Natasha engaged me to chauffeur her to a going away party for our mutual friend. I stayed long enough to snap this photo, and to be advised that I ought to write a play about the life of Jacques Brel in which I play the lead. It sounded plausible...
Later, K. called: he'd been dueling with wooden swords and had proven his mettle to merit being given a razor sharp Wakizashi. I hastened to pick him up; I did not think it wise that he walk through the downtown neighborhoods with such a weapon.
Later still, a German complemented my driving:
"So precise. We have people like you where I'm from."
I discovered tonight that I share a birthday with author Neil Gaiman. Thank you, Sandman liner notes.
-- Post From Taxi