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  • C says that men are like taxis. Not that one comes along every few minutes (please, she lives in Berkeley). No, that you need to wait for one that's got its light on. There is no point in wasting your precious energy waving down the ones that are preoccupied.

    We are talking here about a going the distance kind of man. We mean not a ride around the block, but a fly me to the moon kind of journey.

    The other night in Neukolln I waited for a cab in the drizzle for aeons. At last one stopped; I opened the door to a blast of drugstore cologne and spastic rock music. I opted for the Ubahn after all.
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