"Where to, pal?" the cabbie asked after I got in. He was old, round, and had a worn face weathered by a fair share of fights. He didn't look very friendly, but at the same time, seemed like someone you could talk to.
"LaGuardia," I said.
"Coming or going?" he asked as he pulled away from the curb.
"Going."
"Not much luggage," he remarked. He looked at me off the rearview mirror.
"Just a quick trip. Business."
"Mind if I ask where?"
"San Diego."
"Could be worse places to go, even if it was just for business," he said with an easy laugh.
He caught me staring at him fiddling with the GPS.
"I didn't know you used these now," I said.
"Hell, I just like watching that cartoon car move on the big map. I don't need it. I know this city like the back of my hand. I used to be a cop. I know every inch of this town."
"I'm retired," he added, as if anticipating my question. "I just do this to get out of the house."
He pointed to a McDonald's that looked like a three-story toy store. "See that there?"
"Yeah."
"Used to be one level and a bodega. Guy sold stolen electronics from his backroom."
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